


Let it Bleed

by Babygirl_Francesca



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, Bottom Jaime Lannister, Breathplay, Collars, Crossdressing Kink, Dom Sandor Clegane, F/F, F/M, Humiliation, Kink Negotiation, Knifeplay, M/M, Painplay, Praise Kink, Spanking, Sub Jaime Lannister, Temperature Play, Top Sandor Clegane, mild watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2020-12-16 00:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21027158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babygirl_Francesca/pseuds/Babygirl_Francesca
Summary: Jaime's a famous submissive who owns his own club. He's worked with anyone who's anyone: Robb Stark, Oberyn Martell, even Ramsay Bolton. So why is he finding himself attracted to the inexperienced and rude Sandor Clegane?





	1. Gimme Shelter

"Arya! Off the pole." Jaime said, exasperation clear in his voice. The slip of a girl let go immediately with a sheepish grin.

Margaery followed close behind her and Jaime was glad that Arya had gotten off. Margeary was _very _protective of her pole and kept it glistening clean at all times. Arya just liked to test her limits.

Margaery gave them her usual sly smirk as she took a seat in a plush chair next to the pole. They still had some time until they opened so until then Margaery was lazing around in a black robe. Jamie liked the club in the hour before opening, as staff showed up and got everything ready for the night. Arya was already in her full gear, black leather and straps adorning her. That was the typical of how the employees dressed, all in black. He didn't really mind what it was, but nothing ridiculous, they had to be covering their genitals, and nothing colorful.

He and Arya fell into step with one another, walking towards that bar. "You got my note?" She asked and took a seat on one of the stools. Bronn slid a drink down the bar at her and she caught it easily. Bronn and Edd were on shift downstairs, Sansa and Daenerys were upstairs. It was weird politics working at a club like this and not making restrictions against his employees having relationships with one another. As such, Sansa and Danny worked well together but Sansa didn't like seeing Maegaery with customers so they had to work upstairs. Edd and Bronn didn't really like each other, but Bronn/Danny just had no chemistry, and bartenders needed to have a little chemistry.

"Yeah I got the note." He said with a sigh and scratched the back of his neck as Bronn also handed him his usual drink, a gin and tonic. "I'm not gonna say that it's gonna be easy, but thanks for giving me time to figure it out."

"Sorry. I know I make a really good dom, but It's just not my passion." She shrugged her shoulders and Jaime could understand. Some people had the temperament but not the drive to be a successful dominant. "Plus with Brienne and I's engagement she's been looking into adoption and social workers kind of hate occupations like this."

"I know, I know. Hey, if you guys need a reference by the way, I could forge a very respectable fake business." He promised which made Arya grin.

"The little bitch is leaving?" Bronn asked, coming to lean against the bar where they were sitting, a can of _Miller Lite _in his hands. Jaime didn't understand why he drank that shit when they had plenty of nicer liquor sitting around, even nicer beers, but some people were stuck in their old habits.

"Looks like you'll have to find another bitch." Arya quipped with a shrug and then shot back her vodka in one gulp.

"The whole lot of you girls don't exactly play nice."

Jaime would give him that, having so many girls working together in one place let to a lot of infighting. At least with the guys he could rely on them just hitting each other, with the girls it was always something else.

"Alright, alright settle down ladies." Jaime ushered before either Arya or Bronn got truly mad. "We still have twenty minutes left, Arya do you want to work the second floor tonight? We could work a little promotion since you won't be with us for much longer?" He offered.

Arya scoffed at the offer. "As _if, _you guys are so stuffy up there." She complained.

"Arya! Yara just called in sick, you're upstairs today." Petyr said, coming out from the back. He was almost always in the back, managing things from afar. He didn't like to be out in the club while they were busy, but it wasn't like he minded be around sexuality, it just didn't seem to be his thing.

Arya's face sunk and she looked like she was about to complain but realized their was no point. "_Fiiine, _but I am so getting like double-time for this. Upstairs is so much harder." She drolled.

"Not a chance." Petyr said and fixed her with a stare that made Arya back down a little. "She doesn't have many return customers, but there's one in particular who usually comes, here's his file." Petyr handed her a manila folder that on the inside had a brief description of Yara's most frequent patron.

Petyr was a good manager for the club, he handled the day to day while Jaime felt like he didn't really do anything aside from pay salaries. Petyr was kind of a managing God though, he'd worked BDSM down to a well-oiled machine. All doms and subs kept short profiles of their repeat customers, using whatever name that the customers were comfortable giving. It worked well for when someone had to miss work, but it kind of took the passion away from the encounters. Not that the customers knew that they did that.

"I'm gonna go talk to Tormund and Margaery about and Gendry, and oh shit, _Jaqen__. _Ugh, Yara better not make me lose customers." She stormed off, still clutching the folder in her hands.

The second floor of the club _Red Keep _was the premier lounge. It was $30 cover charge to get into the first floor, and $150 (plus the original $30 cover to get in) to get onto the second floor, even then there was a chance that you wouldn't be let up. Davos was their bouncer at the main door, and they worked well. Stannis was their bouncer at the second floor door, and he was a very discriminating judge of character. Even if someone had already gotten onto the first floor and had the money for the second, that was no guarantee they'd be let up. Stannis was legendary in his judge of character, and as such the second floor lounge was a highly sought after place to be.

The doms and subs on the second floor were ridiculously vetted and background checked, they needed five references and to complete a series of demos showing that they were capable. Yara, Robb, and Melisandre were their workers upstairs. Technically Jaime was upstairs too but he rarely took doms anymore. Arya had been with them long enough that he was confident she would be able to fill in for Yara, it was more important to have a full floor upstairs than downstairs.

Losing Arya was certainly going to be a blow to the club, she was one of two female doms, and Jamie would have a hard time finding somewhere to replace her. He had his fingers on a hundred doms, but none of them were even similar to Arya. _Maybe I can finally give Daenerys the job she wants... _Jaime mused to himself but then realized that the main lights were coming on and he was still wearing his everyday clothes.

He changed into a dark grey shirt with black slacks, the sleeves rolled up around his forearms. He changed in his personal office, though most did so in the posh changing area they had that doubled as a break room of sorts. There were lots of offices in the back half of the club, but the were sectioned off. It was easy to break immersion, even as an employee, to go from the dimly lit club floor to the florescent back half.

Renly gave him a grin as he came out of his own office, camera in hand. "Ay Jaime. Stop right there and let me snap a picture." He pointed to the wall and crouched in front of Jaime, snapping a few photos. Renly was their press manager. He ran all of the social media accounts, their well polished website, and promoted events for the club. He did his job well and was good about being non-invasive when asking people their permission to take photos.

"You seen Tyrion today Renly?" Jaime asked as he fell into step with him.

Renly shook his head. "Not since yesterday afternoon unfortunately." Jaime nodded. It was unusual for Tyrion to be around at this time of night. He liked to watch sometimes, but for the most part he worked the less present side of the business. They were co-owners, Tyrion had even been the one to come up with the idea and he was content with the money and the little actual work he had to do.

Out on the floor it was positively lascivious. They played instrumental music loudly and the lights were dim. They'd opened, Jamie checked his watch, _ten minutes ago _and already there were at least thirty people in the room. Opening was never their busiest hour though and by eleven their would be fifty people (that was capacity) downstairs and maybe ten or twelve upstairs.

"Why don't you come join me for a spell Jamie! We'll show everyone else how to have a good time!" Tormund called, brash and loud as usual. Jamie rolled his eyes. They'd had scenes together once or twice, never really sexual. Tormund wasn't into men.

"You'd choose me over one of these beautiful and eager ladies?" Jaime commented motioning towards the several women who were sitting near the giant man. He just laughed and turned his attention back to them. Tormund certainly wouldn't be able to fill Arya's vacancy. He catered towards completely inexperienced women who liked the thought of being manhandled. Arya certainly couldn't provide that.

The room was large, swallowing everyone up into it, but Jaime knew his way around like the back of his hand. He'd owned the club for almost ten years now, founded it on his 21st birthday with his 18 year old little brother. Tyrion had been the brains behind the set up. Jaime had been in charge of the decor, the atmosphere, the employees of the club. He'd hired Petyr on after to handle the smaller scale stuff.

At 21 Jaime had been the sub of Robb Stark, a few years older than him and absolutely cold-hearted. Jaime considered himself to be very closed off to affection, he usually didn't like it during the first few weeks or even months of a relationship, but Robb simply _wasn't _affectionate, so it hadn't worked out between them. However, fetish and kink publications already loved Robb, the _Young Wolf_, so Jaime had gotten pulled into the limelight with him and he'd never really left it. Even as he'd moved through other doms, his Instagram stayed at a high level of followers and publications/blogs still asked about him often. Jaime liked the attention.

Jaime hadn't taken a dom in a very long time. It had been months since he'd actually had a scene, and over two years since he'd gotten out of his last contract. That last contract had been... Traumatic, to say the least. Jaime didn't really like dwelling on it.

He took a seat at the bar again and Bronn passed him another gin and tonic that Jaime sipped at slowly. He heard the sound of a scream coming from upstairs, _that would be Robb. _He and Robb hadn't ended on bad terms at all, they just both realized that the other person didn't have what they were looking for and parted amicably. Robb had been the first person he called after they got the club started.

"Someone sitting here?" A demure, husky voice asked and Jaime looked see a three men who wanted the last three seats at the bar. The man who addressed him was confident looking, and very sleek.

"By all means." Jaime said, motioning for them to sit.

The three turned towards towards the middle one and Jaime focused on his drink instead of on them. Edd took their orders while Bronn stood and shined the same glass for the fifteenth time. "Doing good work today Bronn?" Jaime asked, his eyes half-lidded and easy, one of his eyebrows raised at the man.

"Just doing the work you pay me to do." He responded easily even as Edd was rushing around the bar trying to refill drinks and generally be a good bartender. That's why the two didn't really work together super well, but again, it was better than splitting the girls upstairs up.

"Go give Edd a hand." He waved for Bronn to go join him and he begrudgingly acquiesced.

Alone again in his own little world, he could hear the three next to him talking. They were talking very loud trying to hear themselves over the music, so Jaime wasn't missing a word.

_"Go talk to her! It's what she's here for!" _The one closest was urging. Jaime glanced over, but kept his gaze covert. The three were so wrapped up in their own little world that they didn't notice Jaime listening in.

_"I don't want to talk to her." _The man in between them said and Jaime had to lean a little forward to see who he was. Jaime licked his lips unconsciously when he saw the man. He was very attractive with smart glasses and a thick mess of curly hair. His biceps where probably the size of Jaime's thighs, and Jaime should definitely stop staring at the man by now.

_"There's another one." _The man with red hair pulled up on his head said and then pointed towards Jon, their resident rope bunny and the only other sub on the first floor, other than Jaime himself of course. Jon was currently tied up with the usual arms behind the back. It seemed like a beginner was working the ropes, but Jamie saw that Tormund had a close eye on the situation. Jon had a bad habit of being too nice to tell people when they were doing a bad job, but Tormund didn't mind butting in. _"He's cute, right?"_

The man just shrugged his shoulders and sighed.

_"There's an upstairs? I've heard it's pricey but we could scrounge the coin up for you." _The one with short cropped brown hair said and Jamie was kind of shocked by how far they seemed to be willing to go to get their friend laid.

The only sub upstairs was Melisandre, not someone good for beginners at all. In fact she didn't usually let beginners touch her. They had played up her flame kink on the website and now every pyromaniac fuck within a thousand miles thinks they're allowed to try and burn her--not that Yara or Robb would ever let them get close enough, but Mel had recently adopted a strict _no touching _policy with complete beginners.

_"We're not throwing money away. We could go to any other bar in King's Landing and find plenty of partners. Why did you drag me here?" __The Hound _Jaime wanted to refer to him as, asked. His voice was husky, and he was huge. Jaime could only imagine the out-for-blood look he would have on his face while orgasming. Yes... _The Hound._

_"Beric suggested it! And every time we go to a different bar we run into your weird brother." _The red-head retorted and The Hound looked aggravated by that. Jaime wondered if he was The Hound's type. He was obviously inexperienced, and Jaime had never been with a beginner before, but he also simply hadn't had sex in a while and The Hound was exactly Jaime's style. Jaime didn't want to have sex though, probably couldn't without some kind of masochistic act. _Maybe I can teach him? _Jaime thought to himself fleetingly, but let go of that. They could have a fun one-off though. Jaime didn't need to orgasm, it would be enough to the The Hound do it. Perhaps he could be gagged while it happened, or they could do something vanilla like spanking.

Jaime would have to get the man alone though, he didn't want to interrupt them, so he downed his drink and got off of the stool, walking towards a more secluded area of the room. From here he could see Margaery sitting on a throne like chair while some man massaged her feet. Pretty typical for her, she was a sub, but a bratty one.

He sent off Bronn a quick text to give The Hound another drink, this one from Jaime. _'Give him the drink, tell him it's from the blond that was sitting by them. Tell him I'll be on the second floor and that I don't like waiting. Stannis will be expecting him.' _He typed out quickly and lingered for just a moment to see Bronn pull out his phone (that's why he sent it to Bronn and not Edd, Bronn was far more likely to check his phone in the middle of a shift), and then he watched a look of surprise cross Bronn's face, but he made the drink and handed it to The Hound anyway, and then his friend patted him on his back and ushered him as Jaime made his way up the stairs.

The second floor was different. It was behind a heavy door that Stannis pushed open for every patron, and the door completely blocked out the noise of the lower floor. In here they had the music play much quieter and people spoke in subdued tones. The dress was business casual (for the most part, Sansa, Danny, and Aryawere wearing leather with straps). The only loud noises were the occasional scream, but usually things like that would happen in the back rooms.

He let his upstairs employees set their own ground rules, like whether or not they would have sex with the patrons or if they would charge for certain things. On the first floor they weren't allowed to charge their patrons anything but they could accept tips--however there weren't any private rooms downstairs. Up here Jaime didn't care what they did, they could charge by the minute simply to let customers be in their presence, it was a perk of being influential.

Arya seemed to be holding her own with Yara's patron in the far corner. She had him on his knees, hands behind his back and was messily pouring champagne in his mouth as she called him demeaning names. He was surprised to see one of Arya's regulars was upstairs too, _Jaqen_, Jaime reminded himself the name. He was probably hoping to get Arya in one of the private rooms now that she was upstairs, but that wouldn't happen, Arya never did anything overtly sexual with her customers.

Melisandre was nowhere to be seen, but a door to a private room was closed with Jorah, Mel's bodyguard of choice, standing at attention outside. A high pitched squeal came from inside but Jorah didn't even flinch, he would know if Mel actually needed help.

Robb had his feet propped up on a women who was on her hands and knees on the floor, looking to be straining to keep the position. Another woman was talking to him but he wasn't listening. A third woman was shirtless with a gag in her mouth and a cube of ice melting at her collar bone, head tipped back to accommodate it. It always impressed Jamie how Robb was able to take care of so many subs at once. People were obsessed with him and usually when he did finally make use of a private room he brought in more than one person at a time. Robb looked up and winked at Jaime, Jaime winked back.

Jaime made his way to the bar, fewer stools than down below and most everything was top-shelf. Danny grinned at him and offered a nod.

"Gin and tonic." Danny said as he set the glass down in front of him, perfectly mixed. He grinned at her and then looked anxiously towards the staircase hoping he would be joined soon. "I've been meaning to talk to you." He said, flashing him a sheepish smile.

"About?" He knew what this would probably be about, Ginny wanted Luna's position.

"I think you should consider me more seriously to take Arya's spot." She finally said, she sounded confidant in her words, but her eyes showed the opposite.

"You're incredibly inexperienced_._" Jamie complained and Danny just shrugged, stopping herself from rolling her eyes, before rushing to get a drink for an actually paying customer. A month _was _enough time to train her, if he could get hire a new bartender. Maybe Brienne (Jaime's closest friend) would step in for a month while he hired a permanent person. He could call _The Viper_ (Oberyn Martel, just as terrifying as the name made him sound) tomorrow and see if he'd be willing to train Danny, they'd probably be a good fit... He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice The Hound had taken a seat next to him and Sansa was eagerly walking over with a drink already ready.

"It's on my tab, Sansa." He told her and he looked just as stunned as Bronn had before nodding.

"You one of the _subs _who works here?" The Hound asked, turning to face Jamie.

"I believe that when someone's bought you a drink, _two drinks _now, you usually start with names." Jaime quipped back and the man narrowed his eyes for a moment before grabbing his drink in one of his thick hands and taking a long sip. He looked fully at Jaime now and Jaime noticed a scar on the side of his face. It was very pale white, impossible to not notice, and traveled from his eyebrow down his cheek and to his lips, curving that side of them into an ever so subtle frown.

"My name's scarface." He said, sounding way too serious. Jaime giggled, actually _giggled _like a small girl at the words. The Hound just looked down at his drink, hiding the scar from Jaime and he suddenly felt bad for looking at it so long.

"You're funny." He remarked, not liking to be taken off guard or to feel bad for anything. Jaime was full of himself and he never apologized.

"Sorry I made you think that." He replied, his voice so low that whispering for him was almost impossible, it was just a deep rumble that Jaime could barely pick up. "I'm Sandor." He looked back at Jaime, but his hair fell into his face and he didn't see the scar again.

"I'm Jaime." He said in returned and looked fully at the man, turning his body to face more towards Sandor in an inviting way. "And I am a sub, but I don't work here. I own the place."

"A rich prick then." Sandor said and Jaime was taken off-guard by that. He was being taken off-guard by everything that Sandor said.

"And I certainly know how to use my rich prick." Jaime took another gulp of the gin and tonic, feeling like his own words were silly. He was usually so confident. "What brought you to my club?"

"I was bored." Sandor had his drink refilled by Sansa, the always perfect bartender.

"Bored of what." Jaime rested his chin on his hand and leaned perceptibly closer to Sandor. The man didn't lean away, but he didn't get any closer.

"My wife." Sandor said in the same droll tone he'd been using and Jaime honestly wasn't sure if he was kidding, he froze slightly and flicked his eyes up to Sandor's, but Sandor didn't reveal anything. Not like Jaime had a moral compass or anything, but he might feel slightly bad fooling around behind a wife's back. "Another joke." Sandor clarified and Jaime felt the air leave his lungs.

"I knew you were funny."

There was a tap at Jaime's shoulder and he turned to see Robb, standing at his side. "Gentlemen," he greeted the two of them. "Jaime, do you mind if I speak with you in private for a moment."

"I was talking to him actually." Sandor said, finally turning to fully face them again, looking directly into Robb's eyes, unwavering. Jaime just about wanted to melt. Obviously Sandor didn't know who Robb was, but it was still oh-so-sweet to hear someone talk back to him. Even Arya and Sansa were usually too afraid to get lippy with their own brother.

Sansa and Danny were looking at the two of them. Danny in horror, Sansa in intrigue.

Robb's jaw flinched. "I don't care. Jaime, if you would." Robb flashed a look at him that at one point in his life would have made Jaime immediately follow orders, but now he had to stop a grin from covering his face.

He looked back to Sandor, wondering if the man was going to say anything else _bold. _Sandor didn't though, he simply stared Robb down with a bored looking expression as Robb fumed.

"Spit it our Robb, if we actually need to speak in private it can wait till later. Or go find Petyr." Jaime finally looked away from Sandor and to Robb, who looked to Jaime. That was a mistake; Robb broke eye contact first and Sandor had a very satisfied look on his face.

"Alright then, I just meant to say that I think it would be a mistake for you to attempt a scene with this obvious amateur," Robb paused and glanced to Sandor. "Trust me this is for your own sake." He said to the man and then looked back to Jaime. "I know you Jaime, it would be a bad idea." Is all Robb finished with and Jaime looked at him pensively for a moment.

"You're probably right." He noted, but continued with: "however I'm making my own decisions tonight. Have fun with your girls."

"What was that cunt all about?" Sandor asked immediately and Jaime had to compose himself lest he snort in the the premier lounge.

"He was just telling the truth. It would probably be ill of me to do anything with you." He admitted and drummed his fingers on the bar.

"Who said I wanted to sleep with you?" He asked and Jaime stopped his drumming looked up at Sandor. Actually Jaime hadn't thought about it at all, just assumed that everyone wanted to. "I do, to clarify. But you're a bit of a pompous ass.

Oh Jaime liked this man. He was just mean, not in a dominating or sexual kind of way, just a plain old asshole. "I'm afraid I should take my friends advice and stay away from you." Jaime said with a far off looking in his eyes, trying not to let sarcasm seep into his voice and he leaned back into his own space.

Sandor grabbed his forearm and Jaime looked down at the offending hand as if he'd just been stabbed, and then up into Sandor's still bored looking green eyes. "You _are _fun." Jaime remarked and licked his lips, this time not unconsciously. "Follow me." He ordered and Sandor set down his drink at the bar, sliding out of the stool as Jaime did the same.

He led Sandor down a hallway, then down a narrow spiral staircase back to the first floor, through another hallway, and then finally they were in Jaime's office. His office had a desk of course, but also a questionably large couch with blankets folded underneath it and a black, ominous kit.

"Weren't there rooms upstairs?" Sandor followed him in and Jaime locked the door behind them.

"I don't like to hear other people." He remarked and motioned for Sandor to take a seat on the couch.

"Aren't you a submissive, shouldn't I be telling you what to do?"

"Overzealous I see. My friend upstairs was right, I don't take on beginners for a very good reason. I'm a lot handle. Let me guide where this is going _this time._" He emphasized the words and sent Sandor a smirk. His usual lady killing, knee buckling smirk. Sandor looked completely unaffected, Jaime _hmmphed._

Jaime pulled the box out from under his couch and pulled what appeared to be a belt out from it, but it was far from a regular belt.

He set the belt on the spot next to Sandor and then unceremoniously climbed into the mans lap, straddling him and sitting back on his knees. He didn't worry that he would be too heavy, and Sandor didn't complain. "Do you want me to call you something?" Jaime asked. He didn't really like using terms like 'sir' or 'master' when they weren't backed up by an actual dom, but if Sandor wanted to feel like one in the moment, then Jaime would let him.

"Sandor." He said, his voice such a low rumble that Jaime barely even picked up on the whole thing, but it made him smile. The man was probably incredibly sweet at his core, Jaime just needed to get there.

"Kiss me." Jaime commanded and Sandor didn't seem to have any problem doing that. He cupped Jaime's neck and pulled him down into a kiss that Sandor immediately took charge off.

At first, Jaime figured that he would just have to be in control, but after a brief clash of teeth Jaime simply let himself mellow into it. Sandor led them with a reaffirming hand on his neck and another hand gripping at his ass. Jaime forgot how nice it is to be kissed. Sometimes in scenes, especially the ones Jaime had been part of recently, there was no kissing at all. Seen as a banal thing that didn't matter when whips were involved, but it was an important tool all the same. It could help ground a sub or bring a dom back to reality, offer comfort and intimacy all in one. And Jaime liked how Sandor kissed.

His own cock was getting hard in his pants and so Jaime imagined that Sandor would probably be getting there too. He pulled his mouth away and tipped Sandor's head back, kissing and biting at his neck and ear lobe. "Take your cock out." He told him and Sandor squeezed Jaime's ass one more time before he unbuttoned his pants and slipped his hard erection out of the slit in his underwear. Sandor's hands immediately went to Jaime's pants as well. "No, just you." Jaime urged and Sandor pulled away for a second to look at him in confusion. "I get off on it, seeing you orgasm but I can't touch myself. Just, whatever, don't touch my cock." He urged and Sandor all but shrugged in his nonverbal and noncomital reply. Jaime loved it, he lived for being basically ignored in sex, used only for someone else's pleasure, and Sandor was oddly good at it.

When Jaime finally looked down at Sandor's cock he felt his heart flutter, his mouth go dry. Jaime was an extreme size-queen, a well known one too. One of the reasons he'd stayed with Robb for so long was because of his monster cock, and now here Sandor was _dwarfing _Robb.

"Like what you see?" Sandor asked, very unexpected of him and Jaime looked up at him with lust in his eyes.

He reached over and grabbed the belt from next to him and looped it around his throat in a few quick motions. He expected Sandor to look daunted, but he was just as unreadable as before.

"I want you to stroke yourself until you orgasm. Maintain pressure on my throat. If I turn red let up until my color normals. As you get closer to orgasm pull tighter, you don't have to worry until the apple of my cheeks tinge purple, then let up. I have a cord here," Jaime showed him the thin cord he was holding in his right hand. "If I pull it the belt breaks and it releases me, so don't try to kill me." He said, mostly sarcastically.

Sandor looked up at him, and for the first time there was a different emotion in his eyes than just boredom: _lust. _Jaime crashed their lips back together and rutted his hips up, but then schooled himself. If he had been with an actual dom and done that he probably would have gotten punished, but Sandor didn't even seem to notice--Jaime kind of missed the punishment.

They probably could have both orgasmed like sixteen year olds from just kissing alone, but Jaime wanted to do what he'd told Sandor. He pulled away finally and rested his forehead against Sandor'. "If you do it just perfect, then I'll just be turning purple when you cum all over us. How does that sound?" He asked and Sandor's only response was to grip his cock and give an experimental tug at the belt.

He was... Surprisingly gentle. Choking was dangerous, usually seen as something not _that _kinky, but there were a lot of things that could go wrong and Jamie had used the pull cord with professional doms before, but Sandor eased into it like he was nice car. He pulled just tight enough that Jaime turned red fast, then he eased off and tried again but _much _slower, he felt his breathing restrict painfully slowly.

Sandor's hand on his cock and his hand pulling the belt weren't conflicting with each other at all. He focused all of his attention on Jaime's cheeks and neck, not even looking down at his own cock that was _dripping _at this point.

"Talk." Sandor told him and Jaime felt a small chill run down his spine.

"You're doing pretty good, better than expected for a lug." He teased and the belt got much tighter--but then Jaime realized that his mind was tricking him. Sandor had loosened the belt all the way before Jaime spoke, like he'd expected Jaime to say something bratty, and then he'd only tightened the belt to the tightness it had been at before.

The mans control was seriously impressing Jaime.

The belt stayed pleasantly tight for a moment and then got just a little tighter. Tight enough to make Jaime's mouth drop open. "_Fuck_," he mumbled and dropped his vision down to Sandor's cock. It was purple and pulsing in his hand. "Turn me the color of your cock." He said and rested a hand on Sandor's shoulder, learning slightly more towards him.

Sandor grunted at the words and then the belt loosened all the way and Jaime gulped in a deep breath he didn't know he'd been missing. Sandor was studying his face again and Jaime felt the belt start to tighten.

It tightened to the point where he was comfortable, and then past that. Sandor held him just a the brink of where he almost actually couldn't breath; Sandor's hand sped up on his cock.

He expected the belt to tighten once more, to truly turn him purple, the man had been so precise in his efforts before that. But as the man came he simultaneously let go of the belt and cupped a hand behind Jamie's head, then pressed his other hand over Jaime mouth and nose before he got a chance to take a breath, ridiculously fast.

Jaime tried to take in a breath but his chest just heaved as Sandor thrust his hips up through his orgasm.

Jaime had... Never thought of that before. But he realized when Sandor pulled his hand away and Jaime reregulated his breathing, that his pants had a dark wetspot from where he'd cum in them. Sandor's cum was covering both of their shirts.

He breathed deeply for a few more moments, looking at Sandor with slightly wild eyes.

"I thought I could turn you purple faster that way." He finally said and Jaime didn't hesitate before kissing him again, pulling the man in close like he couldn't get enough of him.

Sandor's arms wrapped around Jamie's waist, crushing him against his solid chest as Jaime cupped Sandor's face with both of his hands. They panted into the kiss, both losing air as neither one of them wanted to pull away. Jaime thought that maybe he could get hard again, he would kill to do that same thing all over again, not matter how repetitive it may be.

A phone beeping stopped them and Sandor pulled away from Jaime with no shame, reaching into his back pocket and pulling his phone out, looking at that instead of Jaime.

Jaime wanted to be mad at him, but he _loved it. _He was sitting on Sandor's lap, a mess in his jeans, spit pouring down his chin, and Sandor was just casually texting someone, not even paying attention to Jaime.

"Oh, my friends wants to leave. They were my ride so I'll go with them." Sandor said, not sounding sad at all to be leaving Jaime.

Jaime scrambled with what to say for a moment, something cool and nonchalant as Sandor tucked himself back into his jeans and stripped his ruined button up shirt off. He threw it into the wastebin like it was nothing and he was left in a tight fitting black tee shirt that Jaime much preferred.

"Alright! Uh, come back to the club sometime won't you." Jaime finally forced out as the man was almost at the door, he spared one more look back at Jaime. Jaime almost said _please, _but then Sandor was shutting the door behind him and stalking off.

Jaime was a wreck.


	2. Love in Vain

"Jaime! I didn't think I'd be hearing from you so soon!" The unmistakably thick accent of one Oberyn Martell came through as soon as he answered the phone. He'd always pronounced his name with a breathy 'h', which had been a very petty annoyance when they'd done scenes together in the past.

"Hey Oberyn, sorry I don't call more often. How's, um, Ellaria?" He asked, not actually incredibly interested, but he knew Oberyn and he liked to talk about his family.

"Oh she's wonderful. You don't call without reason though Jaime, what's going on?"

Jaime was sitting in one of the giant leather chairs on the first floor of The Red Keep, he was luxuriously sprawled and all alone for the most part. Bronn was doing inventory of both the bars so Jaime occasionally heard him rattle something or curse. It was several hours before they opened and Jaime had only just now finished waking up and getting to the club. He'd gotten in just as the cleaning crew had been leaving-it is a very strenuous full time job to clean this club, and Jaime had many people in his employ for that.

"One of my doms is leaving in about a month, less than that now. I have someone else in mind but she's had zero experience aside from working as a bartender and picking up on things. I'd pay you hourly to train her." Jamie explained. He'd gone through all of his expense reports for the past few months and found where he could get the kind of money to pay for Oberyn, he didn't come cheap.

"Hmm, a completely inexperienced girl? That sounds exciting, I've never done that before. Can't you just have Robb or Yara do it though? They're so good." His voice had always been incredibly seductive, dripping on certain words and elongating them.

"Honestly? I don't want Robb getting to her. I need someone trained like Arya was and Robb isn't near it. Yara already said no. She doesn't have the time. It's no trouble if you can't make it work, there's other experienced doms I can hire, I figured I would just give you a shot." Jamie explained and he heard Oberyn hmmming on the other end.

"You've actually caught me at a good time. My most recent contract just came to and end so I'm free until further notice, Ellaria never minds when I take on new clients. Why don't you send me the girls number and I'll get in contact with her?" Oberyn offered and Jaime felt a wave of relief wash over him.

"Yeah I'll text it to you in just a second, thanks for this Oberyn, you're a real life saver."

Jaime set the phone down after sending her the number and noticed that Bronn had set a gin & tonic and a shot of vodka on the table next to him, Jaime would thank him for that later. He downed both the drinks very quickly and checked the time on his phone. They had about an hour left, the rest of the staff would be getting in soon and Jaime had to talk to Yara about a scene they were going to do on the stage later. They did those occasionally, a pair would showcase something-whether it was how to properly tie someone up or extreme ways to punish a submissive.

He finally pushed himself out of his chair and brushed out invisible creases on his black slacks. He was dressed nicer than usual today in an all black suit, he would be entertaining guests upstairs today. He vainly hoped that maybe today Sandor would come back. It had been just two weeks now and Jaime was starting to think that what they'd had was a complete one-off. He hoped not.

"Jaime! Can we talk for a second?" Sansa called from her spot behind the bar. Danny had requested today off, so he'd called Brienne in to work tonight. She and Sansa would be downstairs, Edd and Bronn were upstairs for tonight. Brienne actually did like to watch Arya at work.

"Yeah, what's going on?" He stopped by the bar and dropped his two glasses behind the bar counter. Brienne was re-familiarizing herself with their specialty drinks. Brienne had worked at the bar for the first couple years they were open while she finished getting her degree, and now she was a pediatrician who worked very occasional shifts (it wasn't exactly great for her patients parents to see her working at a club like this.)

"It's about Clegane, that guy you were with a week ago." Sansa explained and Jaime raised an eyebrow, wondering why Sansa wouldn't have brought this up earlier if she'd known something.

"Oh?"

"He's weird, Jaime. Like really weird. He's kind of? a family friend, I don't really know him that well, but Arya and I have run into him a few times. I don't think Jon and Robb know him. He's got some issues, like anger issues I think. Sometimes he's just a cool guy and then other times he's just fucked up or something. Watch out for him." Sansa explained and Jaime quirked his lips to the side.

"You think he's going to hurt me?"

Sansa shrugged his shoulders. "He's gotten me pretty scared before, but like I said: I don't really know him I've just seen him punch one hell of a hole in a wall before."

"If he comes in today, send him upstairs. No charge of course. I'll decide for myself whether or not he's dangerous." Jaime grabbed himself another drink and then headed off in search of Yara. Something about Sansa's words had left a weird feeling in his stomach, maybe it was just because his last dom had ridiculous anger issues and Jamie had both physical and mental scars to remember him by. Sansa was trustworthy too, she rarely had a bad word about anyone.

Some guy says he wants you to come to him. Downstairs.

Jamie reread the text, blatantly ignoring the overzealous dom who was pinching his nipple 'hard,' it wasn't really hard enough to hurt Jaime. He pinched his lips. It was Brienne that had texted him, only one person they could be talking about.

"I have to go, sorry." Jaime told the man who immediately let go of him and furrowed his eyebrows.

"The fuck? I paid $150 to get up here, and you're leaving?" He accused and Jaime just stared at him blankly as he buttoned his black shirt back up and grabbed the suit jacket off of the floor.

"Sorry, you just weren't interesting enough for me." Jaime shrugged his shoulders and the wannabe-dom looked enraged but Jaime honestly didn't care. They paid for him, and he was an asshole. He could find some sub on the internet that would be exactly what they wanted, but Jaime wouldn't morph for each person.

Robb shot Jaime a confused look but Jaime waved him off and then made his to the door.

"Don't let that man follow me." Jaime instructed Stannis who gave a covert turn of his head and then an equally as small nod before closing the door behind Jaime.

The bar was slow tonight and Jaime could see Brienne lovingly watch as Arya poured hot wax on Podrick Payne's back. Ygritte was loudly talking about her day as she drank a full pint of Guinness while Jon had his arms tied behind his back, Jaime could see his shoulders starting to give out from the stress of it, but Jon loved Ygritte and would probably do almost anything for her. Margaery was sitting and gossiping in hushed whispers with Varys, while Tormund looked to not be getting on well with some brunette. A Westerling probably, Jaime thought to himself with a scoff.

Jaime could see Sandor's broad back as he came up to the bar.

"The usual Sansa." He said to her as he took his seat, he had his drink moments later.

"Good to know I can make you come so easily." Sandor said easily and Jaime bristled at the words.

"Careful, don't get too full of yourself, I might get bored of you." He warned and Sandor turned to look at him fully.

"You won't."

He took a long sip of his drink to cover up his surprise at the words. "I almost didn't think you'd be back."

"Almost didn't. You overprice for your drinks."

"I've bought most of your drinks."

Sandor simply tipped his glass to that.

Jaime gave him and incredulous look as Sansa served them both new drinks. "Do you realize how much money people are willing to pay just to talk to me? And here I am listening to you blather on for nothing."

"What does that make you? A prostitute?"

Jaime composed himself at the word. He didn't like that word. He was a professional submissive, sex didn't even have to be involved. He and Yara had done a scene earlier where he'd came in his pants in front of an audience, and yet he would ever consider it sex work. "You call me that and yet you came to my club in search of exactly what I offer. I don't have to be talking to you, you know? There's people on this floor watching you like a hawk, the right movement of my hand and I'll have you escorted out."

"Who knows, maybe that would be for the best. Can't really say why I came here in the first place, it's not really my scene."

Jaime was rapidly starting to forget what he'd seen in the man in the first place. He didn't seem to be interested in talking at all, and Jaime didn't just want to have sex. "Certainly seemed like your scene when you got off on choking me." He retorted and as usual, Sandor's expression didn't change.

"What was it you were doing with that girl earlier?" Sandor asked and Jaime could almost feel a slight apology in the voice, sorry for what he'd said earlier, but perhaps it was wishful thinking. And anyway he hated it when men called grown women 'girls'.

"Yara likes water, I like sensory deprivation. So she'd blindfolded me and put headphones in my ears, and then poured freezing cold water on me. I was showing what it means to be a respectful sub."

"Why were you so quiet?" Sandor questioned and this time he was no longer looking at Jaime, just staring straight ahead. Jaime wondered if perhaps he was shy around topics like this, but Jaime couldn't imagine the man ever being shy.

"What do you mean? I was making plenty of noises." Jaime specifically remembered screaming when the first bit of icy water had hit his skin. He'd been wearing a shirt and jeans but it was no protection for the liquid. Yara loved her scenes wet and cold, which was not really something Jaime liked. He was fine with some temperature play, but Yara liked it seriously cold. She was kind of the exact opposite of Mel.

"You weren't talking." Sandor clarified.

"Oh." Jaime swallowed down the rest of his second drink. "No I guess I wasn't. Yara doesn't really like her subs talking back."

Sandor just made a 'hmm' noise and went back to drinking.

"Your friends didn't join you today?"

"No, Beric and Thoros don't like this kind of stuff."

"How did they figure out that you like it?" He asked, genuinely interested. Sandor didn't seem like the kind of guy to share those things with his friends.

"I was a stupid college student once. They figured it out."

"You? College? You don't seem like the type. What to you do?"

"Are we on a first date or something?"

Jaime shut up, realizing that he probably shouldn't pry for information. He wasn't willing to give up anything, so he shouldn't expect Sandor to give him his life story the second time they've met.

"Do you want to go back to one of the private rooms?" Jaime offered after a few moments of silence.

"I thought you didn't like the private rooms?"

Jaime found it oddly endearing that Sandor would remember that. "They're not my favorite but I want a bed."

"I'd prefer your couch." Sandor tipped his drink back.

Jaime smirked and nodded. "My office it is then."

"Do you have something in mind?" Sandor asked when they made it back there. He took a seat on the couch again, his thick thighs fanning out on the cushions and Jaime pulled his box out from underneath. Truthfully, he didn't really have any idea of what he wanted to do. There hadn't really been any rush in Sandor's voice when he'd spoken about what Yara did, but Jaime didn't want to do the same thing they did last time.

He pulled out a candle after a second. The kind meant specifically for this that didn't burn as hot as a normal store bought candle, so the wax wouldn't give intense burns or anything. "Thoughts on wax play?"

Sandor took one look at the candle and Jaime saw something in his eyes that gave him a hint of what Sansa was talking about, something dangerous. "No. No fire." He rushed out, his voice harsh and accusatory. Jaime put it away immediately.

"Sorry. Um," he went through his things for a moment longer not really sure what he could use that wouldn't take too much time to explain and that Sandor could easily figure out.

"What about that." Sandor reached his hand in and pulled out a silky black sleep mask. "You said you like this, right?"

Jaime nodded and bit his lip slightly, watching Sandor hold the delicate mask in his calloused and harsh hands.

"Do you have earplugs?"

He pulled them out after a moment, noise cancelling and in a sleek black case. Well, as noise cancelling as they could be and still be the push in kind, but Jaime liked them just fine. "What's your plan?" He asked, drawing himself out of his own thoughts. He looked up at Sandor from where he was kneeling on the floor.

Sandor didn't even take a second to think before answering. "I think I'll finger you. That is unless you'd let me fuck you."

Jaime liked how he put it. He didn't ask permission to finger him, he just went for it, told Jaime he was going to. "Fingering's enough for tonight." He stood and grabbed a bottle of lube from his desk handing it to Sandor.

When the man pulled him down onto his lap Jaime realized how stupid this whole idea could be. He stared again at the earplugs and the blind fold. "Is it alright if I call someone? Just someone to stand outside the door. I don't want to say I don't trust you but my office is secluded and if I'm going to let you take away my vision and hearing..."

For a moment Jaime was sure that Sandor would say 'no,' but he seemed to actually think about it and finally gave a curt nod. Jaime texted Stannis to get someone on his office door.

Sandor immediately went to pull off Jaime's shirt and Jaime stopped him. "Leave the shirt, please." He said softly and Sandor didn't even skip a beat, going instead for his pants and hastily undoing the belt.

Jaime had to shift a bit for the pants and underwear to slide down his legs and onto the floor, he toed off his shoes at the awkward angle, but Sandor kept a tight hold on his hips, keeping him in place.

He was roughly pushed back against the couch, one of Sandor's broad hands pressing harshly against his stomach and forcing the air out of his lungs. Jaime gasped and his eyes fluttered as Sandor eased up on the pressure.

For a moment they kissed, Sandor's beard heavy on Jaime's skin. The man was just as commandeering as he had been the last time. Leading the kiss where he wanted to to go.

After that let Jaime put the ear plugs in and then Sandor pulled the blind fold over his eyes and Jaime was shrouded in the abyss.

All at once he felt Sandor's body leaving him. The man had stood up off the couch and then after a long time the couch dipped again and Sandor hovered above him.

Jaime waited for the first touch, but it didn't come for a long time. Jaime felt his body tensed, like when he knew there was going to be a jumpscare in a horror movie but couldn't quite predict it.

His abs clenched painfully when he finally felt Sandor's tongue on the soft flesh of his thigh, an incredibly sensitive area for him. Sandor nipped at the skin and sucked deep bruises into it. Jaime cock was getting interested, though he'd neglected to tell Sandor that he usually needed actual pain to fully orgasm.

He jumped again when Sandor's hand brushed the tip of his cock and then circled around it, not stroking, just squeezing.

"G-gonna tease me all night?" Jaime finally asked, his voice just sounded like a jumbled and incomprehensible mumble.

Sandor clenched his nipple between two blunt nails and pinched so hard that Jaime let out an involuntary gasp, high pitched and heady. His cock surged and Jaime felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead.

Again there were no more touches and Jaime felt his entire body vibrating with how on edge he was. "Touch me, Sandor." He urged but the man seemed against following any of Jaime's commands.

Instead of touching him where he wanted, Sandor gripped at Jaime's jaw and neck, tilting his head uncomfortably back. Jaime was forced to swallow and he felt the saliva get trapped in his throat, choking for a just a second until he was fine again. Sandor kissed his again and slid his black jeaned leg in between Jaime's legs. The rough material of the denim made Jaime's cock ache as it scratched again him.

The hand around his throat moved down his bicep, squeezing with such brute force that Jaime was sure he would have large bruises to remember Sandor by. He moaned and his mouth dropped open. His eyes were half lidded behind the blindfold because it fucking hurt, and his cock jumped eagerly.

Sandor pulled all touch away again and Jaime thrust his hips up into the air, making contact with Sandor's bare stomach above him. Jaime thrusted up against him again, trying to get more friction on his cock. He heard Sandor grumble something but had no idea what it was, and then both of his hands were on Jaime's hip bones, pushing him back into the couch with blinding force, making his point clear that he wanted Jaime to stay put.

His hands pulled away and then a second later one finger, covered in very cold lube was trailed over the top of Jaime's foot, making his thigh quiver with the ticklish sensation.

Jaime's legs were put over Sandor's shoulders, the man forcing him to bend at an incredible angle. His hips creaked in protest but Sandor didn't let up. The lubed up finger was soon pressing against his hole. The long foreplay beforehand seemingly forgotten about as Sandor pushed the digit in with no caution. Jaime struggled to accustom himself to Sandor's ridiculously large fingers.

Only a cursory prep was given before he put in the next finger. His other hand was raking its nails down Jaime's thigh so harshly that he wondered if blood was going to be drawn.

Sandor's fingers stretched him beautifully. He set a brutal pace with the two and Jaime wondered if that was all he was going to do, but then he pulled them away.

Sandor shoved four fingers back inside of Jaime as his other hand painfully dug its nails into the spot where he'd already scratched. Jaime cried out at the feeling of his raw, sensitive skin being abused like that. He was so caught up in the feeling on his thigh that he barely even noticed that Sandor had four of his fingers up to the last knuckle deep inside of him.

He sucked in a breath, wondering if he should mentally prepare himself to be fisted or if he should stop this now. But Sandor didn't try to push any further, he just set a rhythm of pushing his fingers in and out, from the tip of his middle to that last knuckle. He curved index finger in such a way that it brushed his prostate on most strokes.

Sandor's free had returned to Jaime's jaw and roughly squeezed each side, forcing him mouth to open. Sandor unceremoniously put four fingers into Jaime's waiting mouth. He gagged immediately and then tried to center his breathing as Sandor gave tiny little pulses with that hand. Jaime's jaw started to ache immediately at tears from the sensation tracked down his cheeks.

Jaime came without warning all over his and Sandor's stomach and Sandor pulled his hand out of Jaime's mouth. His chin and neck were covered with saliva as Sandor used that hand to, Jaime assumed, stroke himself off.

Even after Jaime had cum, Sandor never stopped fingering him, which made him incredibly oversensitive. His moans turned into quiet whimpers at the uncomfortable sensation of having his semen grow cold and his prostate be overstimulized.

Just a few more moments went by and then Sandor shifted, pulling Jaime's blindfold off as soon as he came all over his face.

Jaime gasped and breathed deeply for a moment as he felt Sandor's cock still dribbling semen onto his nose and cheeks. He ripped the ear buds out and could finally hear just how heavily both of them were breathing. Jaime licked his lips, getting acquainted with the taste of Sandor's bitter cum.

Sandor finally settled back down on the other side of the couch and tucked his cock back into his pants, he'd only taken off his shirt. Jaime reached a wash cloth under the couch so he could try and clean himself up a little bit. He felt slightly dazed after that, he certainly hadn't expected that kind of performance from Sandor.

Jaime glanced down at his thigh and saw that there were a few tiny spots of blood that had popped up. His bicep and hips were already starting to look discolored. Jaime relished in it. He got dressed quickly and went out of Sandor's view to pull on a new shirt that he had in his office.

The clock on the wall stated that it was only one in the morning, they still had a good hour until the club closed.

"Do you want another drink before you go?" Jaime asked.

Once again, Sandor seemed like he wanted to say no, but after a long moment he nodded and put his shirt back on. He put his hand on Jaime's lower back as they walked back towards the main part of the club. Jaime found them a small couch that was tucked off in a corner of the room, currently unoccupied. Brienne bought them both drinks and gave a knowing look to Jaime.

"You've never done anything like this before?" Jaime said comfortably away from Sandor who had his arm slung out over the back of the couch and one long leg crossed over the other. He could feel Sandor's arm behind him, but their legs weren't touching.

"Aside from the couple girls who've wanted to be spanked or some shit? No."

He was certainly a natural. Jaime wondered what he would be capable of if given the right training.

"Will you come back here and see me again?"

"Maybe, probably. Not for a week or two though." He answered gruffly, he switched which leg was crossed over which.

"Why not?" Jaime forced himself not to sound desperate.

"My friends like to go out drinking with me. Plenty of bars around here don't charge a cover. And I wouldn't want to keep abandoning them for you."

"Oh, I see."

"Don't mean I won't come back though."

Sandor dropped his arm a bit so it was properly around Jaime shoulders and the two fell into an easy conversation, or a comfortable lack of until it was coming up on two-thirty and most everyone was leaving for the night.

At three Bronn said he was heading home but Davos was still around somewhere.

At four Davos told Sandor he was heading home and the look on his face made it clear that he didn't want to leave Jaime alone. Jaime ushered him to go.

And at five the cleaning crew came in and Sandor finally had to go home.

Jaime returned to his office and almost wished that he could have gone with Sandor.


	3. Country

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please take house names with a grain of salt unless I actually discern whether or not they play a part in this AU.  
(i.e Stannis is this fic is the first son of a famous house as he is a bouncer at a BDSM club. However, Sansa (as you will learn in this chapter) is still Sansa Stark) Hope that makes sense.

"You know, Robb Stark talked to me the other day." Tyrion mused from the passenger seat of Jaime's car. They'd just parked outside of a cafe and were both getting out.

Jaime flashed him a side eye. "Oh? He does work for you, shouldn't be that shocking." He held open the door for Tyrion. The coffee shop wasn't Jaime's usual pick, but it would do. It was close to the club and catered to business meetings rather than casual conversations among friends. Jaime felt slightly out of place in his jeans and tee shirt when it was clearly a business casual type of place.

"You're the rare exception of his 'Hate all Lannisters' rule. Anyway, it was more interesting because he was asking about you." Tyrion said as they took turns ordering drinks, Tyrion paid for it.

They took a seat at a booth that could seat four, he and Tyrion next to one another, waiting for the other members of their party.

"About me, hmm?" Jaime pulled his phone out of his back pocket and set it on the table face up. The barista brought their drinks out to them. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Brienne and Arya walk in, chatting away with one another.

"He's worried about the man you've been seeing. Some rather large man who apparently doesn't know what he's doing."

"Well tell Robb to shove it. I like Sandor and I'll see him for as long as I like." Jaime retorted.

Tyrion shrugged. "I'm just the messenger."

"We talking about Sandor Clegane?" Arya asked as she slid into the booth with Brienne next to her.

"Yeah, Sansa mentioned that you girls know him."

"Well we don't really _know _him." Arya emphasized. "He did some contracting work for the Stark's a few years ago and I guess my dad likes him or something so they used to go out drinking together. We only saw him when he came round ours a few brief times and one other time at a Frey Christmas party." They all frowned at the mention of the Frey Christmas parties, dreadful affairs. "He had too much to drink and got in a fist fight with a guy then punched a hole in their drywall. I'm pretty sure the guy was his brother, Gregor Clegane, don't really remember though."

Jaime tweaked his lips to the side. "Oh well, it's not like I'm marrying the guy, we're just having casual sex, and I'd like to keep it at that. I'm still not ready for another relationship, or God forbid, _contract." _He spat the word with more venom than he'd intended and everyone at the table got the cue to change the subject immediately. With Brienne and Tyrion being the two people closest to him, they'd had to experience all the fallout from his last 'relationship' with Ramsay.

Their conversation drifted to other things after a while and Jaime all but forgot about Sandor for at least a few hours.

* * *

Jaime was on his knees in front of Sandor, the mans cock shoved down his throat and rough fingers in his hair.

Sandor was setting a brutal rhythm, fucking ruthlessly into Jaime's mouth and finding his own pleasure. Jaime was a mess of moans and grunts on the floor.

It had been just a week since he'd last seen Sandor, the man seemingly unable to stay away for quite as long this time. They'd made short work of disappearing into his office, not even bothering to go through the usual pleasantries.

Fitting all of Sandor's thick cock in his mouth had been daunting as first, but Sandor had simply shoved in with abandon and Jaime'd had to get used to it quickly. His jaw felt stretched to its limit and he gagged every few thrusts, spit dripping down his chin and onto his chest. He was in just his underwear and an undershirt while Sandor was still fully dressed.

One of Sandor's shoes pressed against his cock, crudely shoving at it with ill-executed movements. Jaime keened into the small bit of friction and let himself thrust up against Sandor's black shoe.

Sandor stepped down rather hard, pushing Jaime's cock uncomfortably against his thigh. Jaime let out a shout of surprise around Sandor's cock which made the mans eyes roll into the back of his head. The heavenly feeling of Jaime's throat constricting around him.

As he neared his orgasm, Sandor got harsher. Instead of thrusting, he roughly pulled Jaime's hair to force him to deep throat. Sandor kept this up for almost a minute and Jaime was having a hard time breathing, fearing that he would have to tap out. He and Sandor hadn't discussed that yet.

Finally, Sandor pulled out and roughly kicked Jaime in the stomach, sending him onto his back on the carpet, his legs folded uncomfortably under him. Sandor rested the sole of his shoe on Jaime's rapidly moving chest to hold him down as he pulled the condom off and came on Jaime's shirt with just a few more strokes.

It was undeniably hot, exactly the kind of thing Jaime liked, even if this was rather vanilla in that realm. But... There was an element of genuine fear that Jaime felt while with Sandor. It wasn't the white hot, terrifying fear that he felt while with Ramsay, it was more of an eager fear.

Sandor didn't know what he was doing, didn't know the limits of the human body like most doms did, and definitely didn't know how much Jaime could take. While the man had guessed mostly right for everything they'd done thus far, there was a nagging thought in the back of Jaime's mind that one day Sandor could do something too much.

The kick had been new ground for them, genuine impact play that Jaime liked. He hadn't discussed it with Sandor though, the man hadn't known if he like that or not, had just gone for it. They didn't even have a safe word...

Jaime felt himself come down for a few moments, his cock still hard in his underwear, not that he cared. Sandor kept the pressure on Jaime's chest for a few long moments before pulling away and taking a seat on the couch, leaving Jaime to get up on his own.

Jaime faced away from Sandor to change shirts and a knock came at the door as he had a new one on.

"I'm busy." Jaime called, annoyed at whoever would interrupt him.

"It's Robb!" He called and Jaime just rolled his eyes.

"Later Robb!" He retorted and came to stand in front of Sandor, resting his hands on the mans shoulders and meaning to sit on his lap. Sandor put his brutish hands on Jaime's waist.

Robb pushed the door open anyway and Jaime cursed himself for forgetting to lock it.

"What the fuck!" Jaime yelled at him and took a step back from Sandor, who looked as impassive as usual. He didn't spare a glance for Robb.

Jaime's tense body relaxed a bit when he saw the frantic look on Robb's face.

"It's Theon, St. Theresa's just contacted me to say he was taken in by ambulance several hours ago." He rushed out and Jaime felt all the blood drain from his face.

"_Hours _ago?" He repeated, feeling a little faint.

Theon was Robb's on again off again boyfriend. They'd been like that for years and Jaime could always tell that Robb loved Theon, much more than Theon loved himself. The man was prone to addiction relapses, shoplifting, the occasional drug dealing, you name it. Robb was always there to bail him out or pay for rehab or do anything that Theon needed. Theon's most recent decision had been to draw up a contract with Ramsay Bolton.

They'd both begged him not to, but Theon had a bit of a 'watch me' view on life and they hadn't been able to convince him otherwise.

"The nurse told me they didn't know who he was until he woke up just twenty minutes ago. It's bad Jaime... It's really bad." Robb sucked both his his lips in and stared through Jaime instead of at him, leveling himself.

Jaime was rushing to pull his jeans back on. He picked his shoes up, not bothering with them for now. "Let's go, my car's out back. Sandor I-"

"Just go." The man said, giving Jaime a gentle look as he rushed out of the room with Robb.

In the hallway Robb took in a shaky breath and Jaime grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together loosely.

"Is he going to be okay Robb?" Jaime asked. They made it into the parking lot. The crisp air did good to calm them a little. Sansa was waiting outside the door, her makeup a mess and still in her black leather dress from the club. Yara was next to her, looking stoic.

"He... Ramsay... _Fuck _Jaime! Fuck him! I'm going to fuck kill him." Robb shouted into the night air and Jaime squeezed his hand. Sansa and Yara didn't look in any state to answer the question either. They piled into Jaime's car and he tore out of the lot towards the local hospital.

Robb held Jaime's hand in his lap and Sansa sniffled in the backseat. Sansa and Theon had been best friends since high school, dated for a time, but broke up on good terms. She loved him just like her other brothers. Yara was of course Theon's actual sister. They had the most fire and ice relationship, but Theon had also stolen from their family multiple times and Yara'd had to deal with the bulk of the addiction stuff while they were both in highschool. She loved him though, and only wanted the best for him.

Jaime didn't know Theon incredibly well, but he checked in on him from time to time since he started in with Ramsay. It had been a few weeks since he last called him, but before this Theon never had anything bad to say about Ramsay. Jaime had even been beginning to consider that what happened to him was just a fluke.

The hospital stood out like a beacon in the otherwise dark city. Jaime's hand was sweaty on the steering wheel, the car was silent.

He parked as close as he could and robotically got out of the car. Robb latched onto his arm in a rare want for comfort. It wasn't often that Robb craved physical touch to feel better.

Sansa was still crying softly as they walked in, Yara had given Sansa her large coat so she was slightly more covered up, but they must have looked like quite the sight walking in at eleven thirty at night.

The nurse glanced up at them and Robb told her that they were here to see Theon. They were directed to a room and Jaime could feel the hairs on the back on his neck start to rise as they walked.

Theon was laying in the bed, looking very out of it with a morphine drip in his arm. He glanced up at the four of them with cloudy eyes and a vacant stare.

"Thee?" Sansa took a seat next to him and very tenderly grabbed one of his hands.

"Hey Sansa." He said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

It took a few moments before his gaze finally lingered on Jaime and recognition dawned in his eyes.

"Jaime..." He breathed and Jaime nodded at him. He wanted to know what was wrong with him, but didn't want to come right out and ask it. "Can I... Talk to Jaime for a moment?" He asked. Sansa looked put out at having to leave but she finally acquiesced. Yara looked like her facade was finally starting to crack, and Robb like he desperately wanted to be anywhere but here.

Jaime walked to Theon's side and realized just how pale and thin the man looked. Worse than he did after any relapse. Theon reached for Jaime's hand and gave him a quick squeeze.

"I wish I'd listened to you."

"Don't say that. Don't blame yourself for that psychopaths actions." Jaime warned and Theon broke eye contact for a second, looking at the blinding lights on the ceiling, squinting his eyes.

"Would you show me what he did to you? You don't have to of course."

Jaime straightened his back and took a deep breath before he moved his hands to the hem of his shirt. He hadn't shown anyone in a very long time, but Theon had experienced something akin to him.

With a sigh Jaime lifted his shirt, pulling it all the way up to his chin. Theon sucked in a breath and looked away.

"He's marked both of us permanently." Theon let out with a shudder.

"What did he do to you Theon? We have to go to the police, we could finally get him-"

"No!" Theon breathed out, the word rushed and frantic. "We can't go to the police, what good would it do?"

"But there's proof! _You're_ proof of what he's capable of." Jaime reasoned.

"I was high for days. It was acid and all I know is what he did to me. I don't know how or where he did it. _Thank God _I don't remember the pain... But we can't contact the police. I don't have any money for a lawyer and Ramsay would just tell them that someone else did it. That I was too high off my ass to remember. I know he did it, I know..." Theon trailed off and Jaime fought the urge to cry, memories of his own incident being pulled to the surface.

He hadn't pressed charges because he didn't want anyone to know. That, and the money of course. Jaime and Tyrion were basically cut off from the Lannister fortune when they branched out with the club. Tyrion was never going to see it anyway, and Jaime liked the idea of making his own wealth. They had a lot of money of course, but compared to the Bolton's? They had nothing.

There were plenty of families more powerful than Ramsay's, but none had as much money save for the Lannisters. A legal battle would be pointless unless they had some amazing evidence.

"I'm so sorry he did this to you. Living everyday with his mark is hard to come to terms with... I considered covering it up with a tattoo or something, but I never got around to it." Jaime took Theon's hand in his again. He wouldn't let Theon fall into the depression that he had.

"He didn't just carve something into me Jaime." Theon said, the faint glimmer of light that had reappeared draining out of his eyes.

Jaime didn't speak, he didn't know what to say as Theon processed his next words.

"He... Took a piece of me." Theon's eyes glanced down towards his groin, and Jaime felt his chest tighten.

"Oh God." He mumbled and Theon looked at the ceiling again. "We can't let him just walk away from this, we can't."

"Look at me Jaime." Theon beseeched and Jaime's eyes once again found his. "Who is a judge going to believe? Ramsay Bolton or Theon 'disowned'-'drug addict'-'criminal' Greyjoy?"

Jaime felt a tear threaten to spill and he angrily rubbed at his eye. "Do you have somewhere to stay Theon? You can always stay with me."

"I think Robb's going to offer. But thank you Jaime. And thank you for sharing what he did to you." Theon squeezed his hand again and Jaime nodded, in a daze. "Would you send Robb in please? I think I'd just like to be alone with him for right now."

Jaime ran his thumb along one of Theon's gaunt cheek bones gently before he nodded and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Yara and Robb were sitting on some benches and not speaking. Sansa was further down the hall, speaking quietly on the phone with Margaery.

Robb looked up at him expectantly as he stepped out. "He wants you." Jaime said and Robb was on his feet in an instant, disappearing into Theon's room.

"Yara can you get a ride home?" Robb asked and she nodded at him, not speaking.

He couldn't get out of the hospital fast enough, breaking into a run when he got out into the parking lot.

He smashed his hands against the steering wheel and screamed for just a moment, having to let something out. He was antsy, wanted to pummel Ramsay Bolton into a pulp or go on a long run, just _something._

Instead he drove to a liquor store near his house. The club was still open but he couldn't bare to go back there for a drink. He wanted to drink in the comfort of his own home. He didn't want to be alone though, he desperately didn't want to be alone.

In the parking lot of the liquor store his thumb hovered over Cersei's name in his contacts. She would be with him, hold him and watch some shitty movie with him and not ask questions for just one night... He couldn't though.

He entered the store shaky and the cashier eyed him as he rang up the bottle of gin and liter of tonic water. Jaime gave his ID over to scan and then paid in cash, hastily grabbing the grocery bag as he made his way back outside.

A man entering the store ran directly into him just outside and Jaime made to walk away quickly, not even acknowledge the situation.

"Jaime? Is that you." Sandor's voice came all of a sudden and Jaime froze in his tracks, turning to face him.

"Yes, sorry for running into you. Have a good night." He rushed out and then was on his way to his car again. Sandor grabbed his forearm.

"Are you alright?" He asked and Jaime felt anxious.

"I'm fine Sandor." He tried to pull his arm out of Sandor's bear-like grip.

"I was thinking of going to the club tomorrow night." He stated, studying Jaime with a cold gaze.

"Don't bother. I won't be in. And I have clients this weekend."

Sandor raised an eyebrow at him and held his arm for just a moment longer before dropping it from his grip like he'd been burned.

"I have an idea for next time. I'll drop by." And then he walked into the liquor store, leaving Jaime in the parking lot.

Back in his car, Jaime's resolve completely deteriorated and he dialed Cersei's number.

He drove like a maniac as the phone rang, each 'brrr' piercing his head like a warning bell.

Just as he thought she wasn't going to pick up, she did.

"Jaime? It's past midnight." Her voice didn't sound tired at all. Jaime knew her, she barely slept.

"I'm sorry, I know, I-fuck, I'm sorry for calling." He rushed out, rubbing harshly at his face. This was pointless, he hadn't spoken with Cersei in over a month at this point, and even then it had been at some political function. Maybe years since the last time they'd been truly close.

"You wouldn't have called if not for good reason." Her voice was hushed and Jaime almost thought he could hear the monstrous snores of her husband.

"Fuck," he muttered mostly to himself, and then after Cersei didn't interrupt he shouted louder "FUCK!" And his his steering wheel so hard that it momentarily beeped. The person in front of him swerved self-consciously. "I can't tell you about it. It's my work. It's Ramsay fucking Bolton."

Cersei was silent for a moment. She knew about Ramsay and everything he'd done to Jaime. Cersei had barely spoken up against Tywin when he'd disowned Jaime shortly after the fact.

"I'll just fuck off. Sorry Cers, get back to bed or whatever." He finally had to fill the silence, couldn't stand to let it hand in the air.

"No, I'll come over. I'm assuming that's what you want at least?"

"Yes. Please." His voice almost a whisper.

* * *

They were curled up on Jaime's bed, Cersei sitting up with Jaime nestled under her arm. Either one of them had a drink in their hands. Some stupid television show played. Cersei petted his hair soothingly.

It had been so long since they'd been like this.

They'd always been closer than average brother/sister siblings. Never _too _close, but close enough to raise some eyebrows.

They were twins, what else could be expected?

So this was how they'd always comforted each other through school. Both of them loved physical contact and the love that could come from it. Nothing needed to be said, they just needed to be with each other.

Jaime was supposed to take over the family law firm when he came of age, had even valiantly tried to go to college. Cersei had always been the smarter of them though, and as Jaime flunked out she sailed through, graduating with honors.

It really took until the Ramsay scandal two years ago for Tywin to completely give up on Jaime. He'd been willing to overlook the very public relationship with Robb Stark, and even discounting the club as some youthful rebellion, but tarnishing their family name by being chewed up and thrown out by Ramsay Bolton was too much.

He wondered often if Cersei was glad for what happened to him. It finally got Tywin to realize that she was the obvious choice to take over the company (well, technically that was Tyrion, but he'd never been in the race).

She'd been so distant while he was getting over Ramsay. Hadn't visited him once in the hospital, or called to make sure he was adjusting well post. It had been the Stark children that had taken him under their wing during the aftermath. Brienne had vouched for him and then he'd been let to live with Sansa for a while, one of the reasons he'd eventually hired her.

The Stark's were so night and day from his own family. They were so open and loving, even if their hard faces could fool you.

When Robb had told Eddard that he didn't want a part in the family business, it hadn't been any kind of big deal at all. When Sansa had shown interest they happily paid for her schooling and helped her along. She was only working at the bar now because she wanted to for a few more years before taking over for her father.

Jaime felt like a foreigner now when he was around his father and sister. Cutthroats in his own family. He could almost empathize with Tyrion now, just as ostracized as his little brother.

Cersei pressed a soft kiss to Jaime's forehead. "Just rest little brother." She whispered and Jaime finally let himself go. 


	4. Body Language

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are some of thinks kinks very niche and things that maybe only I like? Yes, yes they are.   
-Also, you may have noticed there were some harry potters names scattered around (still might be a few) that's because this was meant to be a harry potter fic for a hot sec and i guess i still missed some of the names awhoops

Jaime returned to the club the next day and had to pick up a lot of work while Robb and Yara took a few days off to be with Theon. He wasn't a phenomenal dom, but he would suffice. Oberyn had also stepped in to help him. Danny's training was going well apparently, and when Arya left in just over a week now, she would be able to slide in easily.

Brienne would stay on as a bartender until they got things sorted and Jaime could get a new one hired, and then everything would hopefully be back to some sort of normal.

It was a few more days still until Sandor finally came back.

"Did you talk to Theon yesterday?" Sansa asked, mixing him some new fruity drink that she'd come up with. Yara was back to work, Oberyn was still filling in for Robb and seemed to be well loved by the ladies. They'd been able to push some sort of promotional about Oberyn coming in as a guest, and it certainly attracted a new crowd that Robb had never been able to. At the same time though, Jaime was worried about attrition of Robb's usual customers as Oberyn was so different. BDSM club politics were quite interesting, and Jaime didn't want to have to worry about them.

"Yeah he called. You know he's back at Robb's place now?"

"Yeah. I stopped by two days ago to bring them some groceries. Robb has to take him to the Suboxone clinic like twice a day but I honestly think he's fucking traumatized off of drugs now." She explained with a sigh and set the drink down in front of Jaime.

"I hope so. I just... I wish there was something we could do about _him._" He emphasized and Sansa knew exactly who she was talking about. They all wished they could do something about Ramsay.

He felt a buzzing in his pocket and pulled his phone out. It was a text from Brienne.

_Big guy's back and once again asking that you come downstairs to him._

Jaime typed out a quick response.

_No. Tell him to come upstairs or else he won't see me._

He was feeling particularly bratty tonight, and Jaime honestly had to start considering that if Sandor just wanted to have occasional, rather vanilla, sex with him then they should just start seeing each other outside of the club. He still couldn't tell if Sandor was committed to being a dom or not.

He didn't receive a reply and so was confident that Sandor would be coming up to him.

Sure enough, Sandor was taking a seat next to him not a moment later and Sansa, ever the perfect bartender, had his drink made in seconds. Jaime rued the day that she would leave.

"You're picky today." Sandor grumbled and Jaime sent him a bit of a side eye.

"Gotta make you work for me." He retorted and then noticed that Sandor had a leather messenger bag slung over his shoulders and a pair of dark colored glasses sitting on his nose. Jaime was once again reminded that he had no idea what Sandor did for a living. All he knew was that the man was wealthy enough to come to the club and he ran in the same circles as some of the bigger families around here. In fact, Jaime was fairly certain that another Clegane was his sisters bodyguard now or something.

"Where's the bathroom, have to piss."

Jaime pointed lacklusterly at a hallway.

"I don't quite see, why don't you show me."

"Oh come on, it's right around the corner."

"I said: show me." Sandor reiterated and Jaime heard something dark and unsettling in his voice that made him nod. There were some people that just had almost otherworldly voices, the kind of husky voice that could make or break a dom. Probably why he'd stayed with Robb for so long was the man's commanding voice could just make him do anything.

Jaime got out of his seat and nodded, leading Sandor along to the clearly marked '_Restroom_' that was really just about ten feet away. He pushed in the door and held it for Sandor. They kept their bathrooms nice. Dimly lit and confining. There was a rule against sex in the bathrooms though, just common courtesy.

A courtesy that Sandor did not know apparently as Jaime soon found himself pressed up against the bathroom door, effectively making it so no one else could come in without a struggle.

Sandor brought his knee up between Jaime's legs, rubbing harshly against his soft cock. "I don't like it when you tell me what to do."

"I just wanted you to come upstairs." Jaime huffed in an exaggerated sigh. Sandor pressed his forearm against Jaime's neck causing him to struggle breathing for a few moments.

"And I wanted you downstairs." Sandor replied simply, making Jaime gulp.

"Sorry." He muttered finally, wanting to ease the tension in the air. He felt coiled from Sandor's words, and realized that he was hard in his jeans, mindlessly pressing himself against Sandor's thigh.

Jaime figured that they were gonna fool around in the bathroom or something for a while, and he couldn't be bothered to care that it was against his own rules.

Apparently though, Sandor was leading the night and that wasn't what they were gonna do.

Sandor's hands made their way to Jaime's pants button, undoing them and pulling his cock out hastily, stroking Jaime a few times with rough and over eager strokes, his other hand kept Jaime pressed back against the door. Sandor pumped him hard and fast and Jamie's breath was coming out ragged, he was worried that he was going to finish this soon-- it had been awhile since he'd last orgasmed. "Sandor I'm--" Jamie meant to warn him that he may come soon, and Sandor stopped.

As soon as he began, Sandor was tucking Jaime back into his pants and buttoning them up, leading them back out into the bar.

"Should we go to my office?" Jaime offered as Sandor collected his book bag from the barstool, grabbing another drink while he was there.

"No, I don't think so." Sandor retorted and took a seat in one of the black arm chairs around the room. They were in a slightly secluded area, but still it wasn't like their was a ton of privacy on an open floor. Jaime stood over him, waiting to see what would come next, still obviously erect in his jeans. "Take a seat."

Jaime made to sit in the adjacent chair but Sandor shook his head and pointed at the floor. Jaime eyed the floor suspiciously for a moment and then sent a glower towards Sandor before he took a seat on the soft carpet. He sat back on his haunches and faced Sandor. It was a typical submissive position, there was a woman kneeling for Yara in t the same manor across the room.

Jaime looked up at Sandor expectantly, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Sandor reached into his messenger back and Jaime's mind was racing through all of the things he could pull out of it. The one thing he was not expecting though was _a book. _A big thick thing. The type of book that Jamie would see on a shelf and scoff at the notion of anyone actually reading. Not that Jamie had ever done much reading.

Jamie stared at him for a moment, still on his knees, his cock still hard in his pants but beginning to lose interest. Sandor didn't say anything, just pushed his smart glasses up further on his nose, leaned against on of the armrests, and began to read.

He sipped on his drink before while contemplating what Sandor's game was. His legs were starting to feel like pins and needles from sitting that way for so long but every time Jamie tried to catch Sandor's eye the man would just act like he didn't notice before turning another page.

Finally Jamie pressed a hand against his erection, trying to get some sort of relief. He wasn't really losing energy anymore as watching Sandor sit and completely ignore him was kind of keeping his cock at least half interested.

The tip of one of Sandor's brown boots pushed Jamie's hand away, and then Sandor set his boot directly on Jamie's cock. The man let out a small noise of complaint at the sudden intrusion but then the weight on his erection grew welcome and Jamie pressed up against it ever so slightly. He expected Sandor to make him stop again, but the man let Jamie softly press himself against the shoe.

They were in a secluded corner and it wasn't like things like this didn't happen somewhat frequently up here-- but still, Sandor was scanning the room as if to make sure no one was looking over at them.

Jamie gently ran his fingers up Sandor's calf, feeling the muscles of it tighten under his fingers. He wasn't going to be able to orgasm by just pressing against Sandor's shoe, and the small amount of relief it had provided was dwindling.

Sandor didn't glance at him again so Jamie once again felt frustrated. He'd already been in a bratty mood, and this was just annoying him. Sandor pulled his boot away after a while and Jamie was left once again straining and uncomfortable, his cock once again fully interested. He bucked up into the air a few times, trying to feel himself against his jeans, but it didn't really do anything to help.

"Sit still." Sandor rasped, his voice too low to whisper.

Jamie frowned at him and then gave one more small and defiant thrust.

Sandor didn't even set his book down as he drove the side of his foot into Jamie's waist, knocking him over rather ungracefully. That garnered them a little bit of attention as Jamie groaned and rubbed at his side as he sat back up, but eventually they were forgotten about again.

"Point taken."

"You could also stand to shut up." Sandor said offhandedly and Jamie quirked his lips to the side.

Jamie went back to sitting in the same position, but his legs and side ached terribly now. He was probably going to bruise as Sandor had kicked the soft skin above his hip. He was impressed though, Sandor seemed to be incredibly in control right now. He wasn't asking Jamie what to do, he'd actually made a plan and didn't seem to be wavering. It was a welcome reprieve that Sandor seemed to finally be taking some control.

"Take my boot off." He said while turning a page and Jamie flicked his eyes up to Sandor. He wanted to talk back, to say 'no' and draw it out for longer, but there was something about Sandor's eyes and the tone he'd used that told him to just do it.

So Jamie rolled up the black jeans that Sandor had on and then started unlacing the boots, it was tedious work as there were many eyelets, but he finally got it loose enough to pull off. Jamie usually didn't like feet, but Sandor's socks were clean and his shoes smelled like nothing at all. There was a faint trace of white powder on the bottom of his sock, perhaps baking soda. Sandor seemed like a man who liked to be clean.

Sandor's foot pressed against his cock again, but this time he was able to control his movement better and Jamie quickly found himself thrusting up against the silky material of Sandor's socks.

"Undo your trousers." He said, one again not looking away from his book.

Jamie stuttered in his movement for a moment and spared a glance behind him. Everyone else on the floor could only see his back, and this would be no different from just thrusting against Sandor earlier.

He finally moved his hands to his button and popped it, zipping them down and adjusted them so that the bulge of his cock was released from its confines, still pressing against his navy underwear. He let out a small moan at finally easing some of the tension from his pants. He expected Sandor's foot to come back, but it didn't. He looked up to see the man looking down at him, like he wanted Jamie to do something else.

Jamie looked back down at his still covered cock and sucked his lips into his mouth. Technically the top floor was topless only, so it would be against rules if he were to take his cock out-- but he didn't really care at the moment.

With slightly shaking hands Jamie pulled his cock through the slit in his underwear and then glanced up at Sandor again, who gave him a pleased little smirk.

He thrust up against Sandor's foot again and the feeling of the smooth fabric on his engorged cock was almost heavenly. Sandor gave him this pleasure for only a moment before pulling his foot away.

"Touch yourself." Sandor commanded and slipped his foot back into the boot.

Jamie grabbed himself in one hand and began to stroke quickly and roughly. Sandor glanced up from his book every once in a while to make sure no one was too interested in what they were doing.

"You're not supposed to be doing this, are you?" Sandor asked, the dark tone in his voice told Jamie that he already knew that answer. Jamie just shook his head, too aroused to come up with any sort of witty reply.

Sandor smirked again as Jamie was rapidly coming to an orgasm. He watched Jamie's face contort, as if he was _almost _there and then Sandor closed his book abruptly.

"Let's go to your office." He suggested and Jamie looked up at him as if he'd just been shot. His hand slowed on his cock and he was obviously trying to process what Sandor had just said.

"You want me to stop?" Jamie reiterated, his hand still loosely grasped around himself.

Sandor nodded and Jamie robotically moved his arm away and tucked himself back in, though there was an obvious bulge in his pants. Standing up was torture as his sensitive cock scratched against his clothes and Jamie's mouth contorted into a frown.

"There's a way through the back to get there. It's quicker." Jaime motioned to a black door but Sandor shook his head.

"Let's go through the bar, I want another drink." He said and Jaime motioned to the bar where Sansa was absentmindedly checking her fingernails.

Sandor led Jaime downstairs though, back into the thick of things. The club was probably almost at capacity and there were people all around them. Some customers were latched onto one of the club workers and others were making fun with each other. The air was sweaty and thick.

Jaime sent Sandor a glare as he snagged them two seats at the bar. "I thought we were just grabbing a drink." Jamie stated and looked up at Sandor through eyes that were still lust-clouded. Sandor gave him a lecherous smirk in return.

"We'll go in a moment." He finally responded as Edd served them both drinks, remembering Sandor's order with no problems. It was probably added to Jamie's tab immediately.

They sat at the bar for a moment, Jamie incredibly antsy, Sandor looking relaxed.

Just when Jamie thought that maybe his erection would go down Sandor stood and came to stand next to Jamie, invading his personal space. He put his mouth next to Jaime's ear as if to whisper to him, and then reached for Jamie's cock while shielding the view with his own body.

"_Sandor._" Jamie breathed as he felt the man begin to undo his pants button. Jamie didn't know if he had the willpower to tell Sandor 'no' right now, the man had already brought him to the cusp of orgasm twice today.

Thankfully Sandor just gave him a few leisurely strokes before pulling his hand away, leaving Jamie to once again tuck his his hard cock into his pants.

Sandor grabbed Jamie's forearm as they walked through a throng of people to get to the dark hallway leading to his office.

Jamie was incredibly eager to finally orgasm, and his body was absolutely exhausted from being brought so close.

His office was just as clean as usual and Sandor pushed Jamie down on the couch. He stayed standing to pull his shirt off and take both of his boots off. "Take your clothes off." Sandor told him.

Jamie worked to shimmy out of his jeans and shoes. He unbuttoned his crisp dress shirt which left him only clad in a thin black undershirt.

Sandor straddled him on the couch, though there was barely enough room for that. Jamie looked up at him expectantly as Sandor grabbed him by the hips and pushed him up on the couch a little bit so that his mouth was level with Jamie cock.

Sandor wasn't amazing at giving head, but he was persistent and he allowed Jamie to thrust up into his mouth, however shallowly.

"Soon." Jaime moaned, just a reflex that he'd picked up from being with people who didn't like to swallow. He realized his mistake soon though as Sandor pulled off and tightly gripped the base of Jamie's cock in his hand. "No, not again." He said, meaning to sound less pitiful than he ended up.

"What do you want me to do Jamie?" Sandor asked, his name rolling like sex itself out of Sandor's mouth.

Jamie squeezed his eyes shut and his hips bucked into Sandor's hand without his own consent, so desperate to find release. "Please I need to come. I have to." He complained and bit at his lip as he glanced down at his red cock, almost pulsating in Sandor's hand.

"One more time."

"Please Sandor, please _let me_." He whined and then Sandor released his grip from Jamie's cock.

Sandor went to give it one more stroke but Jamie was too sensitive and he came over Sandor's hand with just that little touch.

Jamie was absolutely exhausted and never wanted to move again in his life. He let Sandor get up and grab tissues to clean them up, and felt the man place a soft kiss on Jamie's neck.

Jamie opened his eyes for a moment to see Sandor picking up his shirt from the floor.

"Please don't go yet." Jamie mumbled, his voice still honey-textured and orgasmic. Sandor raised an eye at him. Jamie patted the open space on the couch.

"We're not both going to be able to lay down." Sandor commented and Jamie forced himself to sit up and then stand. He pushed Sandor back onto the couch and crawled on top of him.

"Just lay with me for a moment. I'm so tired but I don't want you to leave before I can return the favor." Jamie mumbled, his voice getting softer and softer as he spoke.

Sandor was uncomfortable with such _romantic _physical contact and he was fairly rigid for a while. When he finally heard Jamie's breathing shallow out he was able to relax, and brought a gentle hand up to card through Jamie's soft hair.

* * *

It was hours later when Jamie finally woke up, still perched on top of Sandor who now seemed to be sleeping too. Jamie was still tired and he figured he'd probably only woken up because of the slightly uncomfortable position they'd been in.

He continued to lay on top of Sandor though, not wanting to have to leave this tender embrace.

Jaime listened to the rise and fall of Sandor's breath and trailed a finger over his still exposed chest, swirling through the thick wiry hairs.

He was going to get in trouble with how much he liked Sandor eventually. Jaime often let his emotions get the best of him, and he barely even knew Sandor. Still, Jaime felt like he couldn't get enough of the man.

There was a perfunctory knock at his door suddenly and then it was being pushed open by Davos, Jaime recognized the voice, speaking to several other men.

"As you gentlemen can see, I'm fairly certain that Mr. Lannister has left for the evening." The man said and Jaime probably should have just kept laying on the couch, but Sandor was awake at this point as well and so Jaime popped his head up over the back of the couch.

"Uh," was all he could say at the moment.

Davos was leading two police officers in full uniform. Alliser Thorne and Barristan Selmy. Both of them hated Jaime and his business. They at least had the awareness to look embarrassed for just barging into Jaime's office. He couldn't blame Davos though as Jaime had been missing from the club for a few hours now.

"If you men would just give me a moment to get dressed." They were leaving as soon as the words were out of Jaime's mouth.

Sandor looked up at him quizzically.

"It's the police. They like to stop by every once in a while and harass my business. Prostitution is illegal but technically my club operates under a different term and anyway, there's no sex going on here." Jaime said it more as a command than a statement. The police never really stopped by during business hours, and when they did Stannis and Davos had a quick system of shutting down anything on the upper floor that could be considered 'prostitution.' Jaime really despised that word. Everything else at the club was perfectly legal. Jaime was pretty sure it was just the officer's personal vendetta against his family that made them keep checking up.

Sandor nodded and got up as well, pulling his clothing back on. Once Jaime was dressed his touched Sandor's arm gently and looked up at him, trying to think of words for moment.

"Thank you for staying with me, I'm sorry if I imposed." He said truthfully and then let go of Sandor's arm, feeling awfully shy for some reason.

"Perhaps next time we could go somewhere with a better bed."

Jaime knew that he could mean the private rooms upstairs, but he also heard the underlying subtext of perhaps one of their own beds. He wouldn't delve into that right now.

He put on his business face and gave Sandor one last smile before opening his office door.

"Officers, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked them with an incredibly fake smile plastered on his face.

"Well first of all, we were told that no sex work went on in this club." Alliser interjected just as Selmy opened his mouth to speak. Jamie let out a small sigh. Barristan was at least _tolerable, _but Alliser was completely impossible to deal with. If he was any other man then Jamie would suggest he stop by the club to let off some steam.

"And I assure you that I don't consider consensual sex between me and my partner to be '_sex work_'." Jaime lied and Sandor looked taken a back for a moment but then gave a small, slightly uncomfortable nod.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion Jamie, we're really here to ask if you've seen or heard from Ramsay Bolton recently?" Barristan asked and Jamie visibly recoiled at the name.

"Officers! Mrs. Lannister and Bolton have a legal restraining order." Petyr appeared, thankfully at just the right moment. He was always able to talk them out of a tough spot. "If any of us had seem him on the club premises we would have notified you."

"Of course, we just need to make sure." Barristan agreed. He looked tired, and that made sense, it was probably just after two in the morning.

Jamie took a moment to conjure words, and when they came out they were deflated and awkward. "I haven't seen him. I would have called the police. What is this about?"

"There's a man looking for him in regards to a possible sexual assault, please let us know if you see him."

"I can assure you that I will make the necessary calls if he comes anywhere near me." Jamie promised. "However, if you're here does that mean that Ramsay is missing?"

Alliser quick answer: "We're locating him yes. He's on the loose Jamie, watch yourself." But the words weren't a friendly warning, they were malicious in intent. Jamie was sure that both of them had heard from their cop friends what had happened to him, and it made Jamie's mouth turn sour.

"Yes, please be vigilant. Thank you for your time." Barristan agreed and Jamie wished them a lackluster goodbye as Davos led them out of the club.

Petyr spared a glance at him and Sandor before bidding him farewell also. "Most everyone is leaving for the night. You should as well Jamie."

Jamie didn't really want to move.

_They don't know where Ramsay is? _He rationalized to himself that that doesn't mean that Ramsay is coming after him, he's probably just at the Bolton estate, sitting pretty until they get a search warrant-- which they wouldn't be able to do.

Sandor put a hand on Jamie's shoulder to break him from his trance.

"Are you alright?" Sandor asked and Jamie quickly nodded.

"Fine, I'm fine. You should probably get going though, it's later, or early."

"I suppose. I'll be back next weekend, or perhaps the one after." He offered and Jamie nodded offhandedly, not even thinking about his schedule.

As Sandor walked off down the hallway he heard Jamie's door close, and then the heavy thud of a lock after it.


	5. King's Landing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooo secrets revealed

Jaime had been dreading this day a long time coming: Joffrey's 21st birthday.

He didn't _hate _his nephew, they just weren't really compatible as humans, and thankfully Jaime didn't really have to see him all that often. For years though, Joffrey had promised--no, _threatened _that his 21st would be spend at _The Red Keep. _Jaime didn't really have the capacity to tell him 'no'.

It was about an hour before the club was open, Bronn was doing temp logs for the fridges, groaning about having to get on his 'old knees' to check one of them. Arya was sitting at the bar and talking animatedly with Brienne about some interview she'd apparently done well at. Not many other people were here.

Petyr took a spot next to him at the bar and didn't speak for a moment. They both drank in silence.

"Is Joffrey to be let in free of charge?"

Jaime thought for a moment, sucking his lips into his mouth and then downing the rest of his drink. "Yes. Upstairs too."

"And I want Davos and Jorah on the door if Joffrey goes to a private room." Tyrion piped up, pulling himself into a chair beside them.

Jaime spared him a momentary glance. It was telling for Tyrion to be at the club, though he would probably leave before they opened for business.

"Who will we have bouncing the second floor?" Petyr asked.

"Have Brienne do it, Jaime you work the bar with Bronn." Tyrion insisted and Jaime nodded. It was a little below him, but they didn't have a surplus of people for these jobs.

Brienne perked up at the mention of her name and glanced over at them, ending her conversation with Arya. "I'm on the door upstairs?" She asked and Jaime nodded at her.

They had to get a permanent bartender hired soon. Tonight was Arya's last night, and Brienne probably wouldn't want to stay around much longer than her girlfriend. It should be cause for celebrations, Arya's last night, but Jaime just felt a pit in his stomach at the thought of Joffrey.

Everyone started to disperse and Jaime got behind the bar, absentmindedly re-familiarizing himself with where everything was, prices, etc. Bronn would give him a hard time, but they worked well together.

"You really think anything bad is going to happen?" Bronn asked after a few minutes of silence. Almost all of the employees had finally shown up, Jaime was stirring his drink for the thousandth time. He was starting to understand why Bronn never looked like he was doing anything.

Jaime sighed, a long and drawn out thing. "I don't know. Isn't there some thing about how serial killers mutilate animals as children?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"I can't remember Joffrey ever having a dog for longer than a few weeks." Jaime left it at that and Bronn grimaced.

Sansa came out from the back in a huff, looking very put upon. Jaime had a glass of wine sitting at the bar for her by the time she got over to them.

"What's got you in a twist?" Bronn asked and Sansa took an angry sip of her wine.

Margaery was following behind Sansa, but at a normal pace. When she finally got to her, Margaery draped a loving arm around Sansa's shoulders.

"Is it true that Joffrey is going to be here tonight?" She asked, her face contorted into a grimace.

"He's 21 so I can't really keep him out for much longer." Jaime explained. Sansa's sighed again and gulped her wine down, frowning at the after taste it left in her mouth. She was also just generally frowning at him. "I'm sorry Sansa, I know you guys ended on bad terms, Edd will take point tonight so hopefully you won't have to talk to him."

* * *

Jaime had made him his first drink, a little light on the alcohol, and then watched Joffrey like a hawk as he flitted among patrons. Bronn rested a hand on his shoulder and told him the equivalent of 'que sera sera,' but Jaime couldn't accept that.

Joffrey circled around Margaery a few times, but he seemed to realize that would be pushing it with Sansa just upstairs. He fixated his attention on Jon after that, sitting near the man but not quite close enough to be noticed yet. Jaime wondered what his game was.

"Working tonight?" Sandor asked, startling Jaime out of his thoughts. The man was sitting at the bar, looking hulking next to the other patrons.

"Short staffed." Jaime explained and passed Sandor a drink. He made to pull his wallet out of his pocket and Jaime shook his head. "Always on me." He said, Sandor fixed him with a withering and confusing look before putting his wallet away.

Jaime made to look busy for a moment but they truly didn't have a lot of patrons in. It was a Thursday night, technically a Monday for the club workers, and was usually their slowest night of the week, only contending with actual Monday. So Jaime couldn't help that he soon found himself leaned over the bar, drinking gin and tonic and chatting about nothing with Sandor.

"What has you here on a Thursday?" Jaime asked, finishing his drink and reaching his hand under the bar to grab a beer. It was only midnight, he should probably pace himself. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Joffrey now talking animatedly with Jon, Tormund was also keeping watch over them--odd since he didn't think Tormund knew who Joffrey was.

Sandor made like he wasn't going to respond for a moment, stewing over things in his head, deciding if he wanted to share what could be personal information with Jaime. Sandor was still kind of an enigma to him. Jaime knew that he had a brother, was apparently violent, and ran in the upper echelon circles without being _that _big of a name. Jaime didn't even know what his job was.

"I finished a project early, so I don't have to work tomorrow." Jaime had figured Sandor to a 9-5er, so it was interesting to get new insight. "Switching to beer already?" Sandor mentioned and Jaime looked down at his IPA. He didn't particularly like the taste.

"I am working in a more literal sense today." He shrugged.

"Sounds like you can't handle your alcohol."

"Give it an hour, then I'll match you." Jaime promised and Sandor raised an eyebrow.

"What, you expect me to just sit here for an hour?"

Jaime supposed that there was no real reason for Sandor to stay if they weren't going to screw around. They'd sat and talked for a while a few weeks ago, but they hadn't really said anything at all. It was mostly just ramblings and small talk.

He was formulating a response when Jon showed up at the bar, leaning against it and getting Jaime's attention. Jaime tried to assess the situation, but Jon was an unreadable as always, his face completely impassive. "Jaime."

Jaime shifted down to stand in front of Jon and quirked an eyebrow at him. "What's going on?" He peeked over Jon's shoulder to see Joffrey lounging on one of the couches, looking pleased with himself.

"Joffrey wants to go upstairs, with me. I know I'm not supposed to, but I figured since he's your nephew..." Jon trailed off and Jaime looked over at Joffrey one more time, who was now fixing him with a testing smirk.

"Uh," Jaime flustered for a moment when all of a sudden Petyr was at the bar too, his hand on Jon's back.

"Why don't you let them, I'm sure Joffrey has the money for a gratuitous tip."

Jaime narrowed his eyes at Petyr and wondered if he was worried about Jon's welfare of just the potential to make money. Jon looked at Petyr, and then back to Jaime. "Well, I suppose if you're comfortable with it." Jaime nodded. "Just get Stannis and Jorah on the door. Leave the door propped."

A look of fear flashed through Jon's eyes at the strict regulations and as he turned to walk away, Jaime grabbed his hand. He took one of Jon's dry, warm hands into both of his and held it tightly. "Jon, if you don't want to then you don't have to. There will be no repercussions."

Jon nodded and squeezed Jaime's hands. "I'll be fine."

He watched as Joffrey and Jon went up the stairs, Brienne ahead of them to let Joffrey in. Jaime watched for a while longer after the door closed.

When he finally turned his attention back to Sandor, the man had two shots of vodka sitting in front of him and pushed one towards Jaime. "You need it." He urged and Jaime didn't argue, just downed the shot and gave one more fleeting glance to the door. Sandor reached over the bar and pinched Jaime's chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing them to lock eyes. "Are you going to go up there and stop them, or are you going to relax?" He asked, he didn't put an inflection on either option and finally Jaime deflated.

"Relax." He said and hurried to make a drink for another patron at the bar.

There was a thud next to Bronn as a can of beer fell on the floor, the familiar sound of a thin stream of liquid shooting out of a narrow and carbonated passage came. Bronn picked it up quickly, "shit," he mumbled and clamped his hand over the puncture. "Any takers?" He asked the people sitting at the bar, they shook their heads. "Jaime?" Bronn held the can out to him and he considered declining it for a second, but he looked back over at Sandor's eyes that were urging his to relax, so he took the beer. Jaime pressed the puncture against his lips and ever so slightly popped the tab, forcing it to stream faster into his mouth. In a matter of seconds he'd drunk the whole thing, and thrown it into the bin.

"Look at you, it's not even one yet." Sandor noted and Jaime looked at the birthday clock on the wall, _12:45._

"It's slow in here." He responded and glanced around again, it really was starting to thin out, which was usual for about one. Many people at the club didn't even drink anyway, wanted to keep their wits about them. They also had a pretty strict cut-off rule.

Jaime grabbed two more shot glasses, filling them both from the vodka tap and setting them inbetween them again. He gave Sandor a challenging glance, he didn't even wait for Jaime, just downed his. Jaime hurried to catch up.

"Are we pacing ourselves or is this one of those kinds of nights?" Jaime asked, a smirk on his face as he dropped the glasses in a tub and grabbed two clean ones, filling them up.

"I thought we'd already decided you're going to relax?" Sandor goaded and grabbed his drink.

Jaime was already starting to feel the effects as he did his shot. Bronn gave them a ridiculing glance.

"Oh, right, you get mad at me for drying a cup one too many times, but you can get shitfaced on the job?" Bronn asked sarcastically.

"You're just so good Bronn, I think you have everything under control."

"You kidding me? With this crazy rush?" He motioned towards the empty bar stools and laughed, slapping Jaime on the back to show that it was just in good fun.

Around their fifth or sixth shot Jaime reached over the bar with both hands and grabbed the side of Sandor's face, pulling him in for a not entirely PG kiss. "Your place or mine?" Jaime joked, laughing and smiling into the kiss.

"Mm, mine." Sandor rumbled against him, giving Jaime's lower lip one painful nip before pulling away. Jaime meant to come up with another smart retort when he heard a loud bang come from upstairs. It must have been incredibly loud, as usually upstairs was sound proofed.

Bronn and Jaime shared momentary tense eye contact before Jaime was rushing out of the bar and up the stairs. The door was already open from where Brienne had gone inside.

The sound must have been Stannis throwing the door to Joffrey and Jon's private room open, as it was still lightly bouncing against the wall.

Joffrey was on the ground, on his ass with both Stannis and Jorah staring down at him with death in their eyes. Sansa wasn't behind the bar anymore, and he didn't see Robb either. Arya was darting into the private room from the back employee stairwell.

Jaime pushed his way through confused patrons who were being urged to go home for the night, refund included, by Mel and Yara.

In the room Robb was brandishing knife which made Jaime freeze up at the sight of. Robb made eye contact with him for a second and then raised both of his hands innocuously. "My knife Jaime, to get the ropes off." He explained and Jaime let a _little _bit of tension leave his body at that.

It looked like most of the worst offending ropes had been cut off of Jon already and he looked very drained. Sansa was gently pushing hair out of his face and pressing kisses to the top of his head. Arya was staring at the situation with a grimace.

Jaime took a step forward and Jon finally made eye contact with him. "Jaime, I'm so sorry--"

"Don't apologize for _anything _Jon." He warned and once again took one of Jon's hands into both of his. Jon winced and Jaime glanced down to Jon's wrist to see it was inflamed, red ringed. He already had dry skin and so the ropes had chaffed it terribly. There looked to be a few other burns on his chest, but thankfully none on his neck. Jaime massaged Jon's finger, registering that they were fairly cold, but not discolored. "I'm so sorry Jon."

"We're pressing charges." Robb spoke for his brother and Jon looked up at Robb, terrified.

"No, wait, I don't think that's necessary!" Jon protested and Robb narrowed his eyes.

"You told him to stop and he didn't, that's battery Jon." Robb said, and then rested a calming hand on Jon's shoulder, realizing that he was speaking intensely.

"There's no point Robb. The police already don't like this place, They'll just call it 'weird BDSM stuff' and be done with it. Plus, he's a Baratheon, it's not like I could sue him."

Robb's jaw clenched so tight that Jaime wasn't sure how his teeth didn't shatter.

"I think I just want to go home." He said, rather pitifully and Jaime nodded immediately.

His body felt robotic, and he was shaking slightly. His fingers and bones jittery under his skin. "Of course, take tomorrow off. Or the whole week, as long as you need." Jaime promised and Jon squeezed his hand one last time before Jaime left the room, leaving him to his siblings.

Joffrey was still outside the door, on his feet now but being watched by Stannis and Jorah still.

"You're very lucky that Jon isn't pressing charges." Jaime said. His words were clipped, perfunctory.

Joffrey immediately jumped into defending himself. "It's just a bit of a rope burn, I don't get what the big deal is!" He argued and Stannis roughly shoved him in the gut with his elbow. Joffrey sputtered for a moment, getting his breath back to him. "Now _that_ is assault! This is ridiculous."

Jaime could barely stomach to look at Joffrey, all he saw was Cersei reflected back at him. "Just get him out, he's blacklisted." Jaime said and Joffrey tried to argue some more but Jorah was grabbing him by the forearm and 'guiding' him out of the club.

Stannis put a hand on Jaime's shoulder. "We went in the moment Jon told him to stop, but you know Jon." Is all he said and Jaime understood the meaning in that. Jon was bad with his own limits, which is why Tormund or Ygritte were always looking out for him downstairs, making sure he wasn't just smiling and nodding. Jaime rubbed harshly at his forehead.

"Are all the patrons gone?" He asked Petyr, who was standing, rather awkwardly for himself, against a wall.

"Upstairs and down." He nodded.

"Alright, let's just call it a night, guys." He said to everyone and they nodded. Most floated in to check on Jon before gathering up their things.

Jaime slowly made his way downstairs and was surprised to see Sandor still sitting while everyone else was gone. Bronn glanced up at him as he made his way down the stairs. "Thought you'd want him to stay." Bronn said, rather rudely motioning to Sandor.

Sandor looked over at him and Jaime still felt just as anxious.

"Your place?" Jaime asked, his voice sounding foreign, authoritarian to himself.

"If you're still up for it."

Jaime nodded and Sandor stood, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

"Hey, hey, hey, you guys are calling a cab." Bronn warned and Sandor narrowed his eyes at the man but Jaime grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him outside.

"We should call a cab." Jaime reiterated.

"I'm fine."

"We kind of zig-zagged out of there." Jaime pointed out and Sandor let out a huff, but he let Jaime lead him away from the parking lot and onto the main road, where thankfully they were able to hail a cab in less than a minute.

* * *

Sandor's house was not what Jaime was expecting, but he didn't even think to comment on it as they arrived. He was still anxious, his body high-strung, he needed to be fucked.

The house was ornate, it looked very 20th century gothic while still being a delicately smooshed townhouse. It was bigger than the ones around it and made of a dark stone. It was slightly intimidating from the outside, but the interior was sparse. Not very much furniture and very open concept. It was surprisingly chic.

"Bedroom's upstairs." Sandor mumbled and Jaime let him lead the way, taking fleeting glances at the posh furniture around them.

Sandor's room was sleek, the bed made, the closet open giving Jaime a peek of what Sandor wore--a surprising amount of suits.

"I want you to fuck me." Jaime said, no ceremony in his voice. He sat down on the bed and glanced up at Sandor through his lashes, trying to look seductive.

Sandor stared down at him for a second, contemplating whether or not he was just going to give into Jaime's request or not. He shrugged his light jacket off as he looked at Jaime, toeing out of his wingtips.

Suddenly Sandor's hand was closing around Jaime's throat, it wasn't tight enough to cut off air supply, but Sandor forced Jaime to stand up with the hand, and forced him against one of the walls. Sandor roughly pressed Jaime stomach first against the wall. Jaime felt his back become flush with Sandor's front. One of Sandor's knees pressed between Jaime's legs, forcing them apart.

"I told you I don't like it when you tell me what to do." Sandor whispered into his ear and Jaime tried to reached back to pull Sandor forward for a kiss, but Sandor grabbed Jaime's wrist and forced it against the wall, immobilizing basically his whole arm.

Jaime pressed back against Sandor's erection with a groan. "So--sorry." He forced out as Sandor pressed soft kisses to the back of Jaime's neck, pushing his hair out of the way with his free hand.

Sandor mouthed Jaime's shoulder over his shirt, giving small nips to the skin.

"Take my shirt off." Jaime said suddenly and Sandor paused for only a moment.

"You're drunk." He said and Jaime shook his head.

"Take it off."

Sandor didn't argue with him further, just reached down and pull Jaime's shirt over his head. He immediately saw a few scars on Jaime's back, deep cuts with no particular rhyme or reason. Sandor pressed his lips against one and sucked a mark. Jaime keened against him.

He released Jaime's wrist to reach foreword and unbuckle Jaime's pants, forcing both them and his boxers down together. Jaime stepped out of the offending garments quickly. "Stay." Sandor spoke against Jaime's skin and then disappeared for a moment.

Jaime felt like he almost couldn't even breath, pressed up against the wall and not wanting to move from out Sandor had left him. His cock was awkwardly scrunched against the wall, but Jaime couldn't even care at the moment.

Sandor was fumbling with a dresser drawer and then he returned with a condom which he pocketed, and a small bottle of lube. Sandor slicked up one finger and slid it into Jaime with no precursor.

Jaime bucked his hips against the wall and sighed in pleasure. "Please, I'm so ready, please be quick." Jaime begged and Sandor did just that.

He only used one finger for a few exploratory thrusts and then he was roughly inserting two fingers, even quicker after that was three.

"Pl--please--_oh! Baby, _please take me." Jaime was an absolute mess. He was pretty sure his face was covered in tears, and he wasn't properly relaxed, but he wanted to be taken, he wanted Sandor to force the anxious pit out of him.

There was the crinkle of a condom wrapper and then Sandor was shoving Jaime against the wall so forcefully that he bit his lip. Blood trickled down his jaw as Sandor pushed his cock in one quick thrust.

Jaime groaned and lay his head back on Sandor's broad shoulder as the man grabbed his hips and roughly fucked up into him.

Sandor pulled out for a moment and turned Jaime around, picking him up and setting him back on his cock as Jaime wrapped his legs tightly around Sandor's thick waist. Sandor gripped Jaime's middle with enough force to bruise, he would probably have nice large handprints waiting for him in the morning.

Jaime's nails dug into Sandor's back, drawing blood maybe, Jaime didn't care. Their mouths tried to meet a few times but they were moving to fast to actually kiss. Jaime smoothed a hands through Sandor's hair, running the pads of his fingers over his scar.

Sandor took on of Jaime's nipples into his mouth. Jaime's rocking caused Sandor's teeth to scrape against it repeatedly, overstimulating and already swollen appendage.

Sandor walked them backwards for a moment and then threw Jaime down onto the bed. Jaime was immediately putting his legs up and inviting Sandor to come inbetween them.

They were in a similar position to before, Jaime's legs like a constrictor around Sandor's waist. Now though, Sandor could grab Jaime's throat as he fucked into him, turning him a devilish shade of purple before graciously giving Jaime some of his air back.

Jaime came suddenly and untouched, coating his stomach in semen.

Sandor could feel his climax fast approaching and increased his pace, cutting off Jaime's air for just long enough to make the man light headed, forcing his sensitive cock to throb at the sensation.

With one final thrust Sandor pushed all the way in and bit harshly into Jaime neck. Jaime howled at the sensation of his skin being pierced and reflexively fucked himself down on Sandor's cock a few more times before Sandor pulled out.

Jaime's neck was bleeding just slightly, and he had a thin trail of blood from his lip to the middle of his chin. Sandor licked the trail of blood with the flat of his tongue, and then over the open puncture, causing Jaime to _hiss _in pain and pleasure.

Finally Sandor sat back and marveled at Jaime for a moment, rubbing his hands down his sides and over the semen on his stomach.

Sandor's hands stopped suddenly when he noticed that the scars on Jaime's front had a pattern. Letters appeared on Jaime's stomach in grotesquely deep scars. Letters that read: _R.B._


End file.
